soldiers to rout them.

To make any attempt against a bold and powerful invader as the leader of
such a race would be madness; there was no choice but to rule his people
in the service of the enemy and so exert his best energies to make their
lot more endurable. His father's wiser and more experienced judgment
had decided that the better course was to serve his people as mediator
between them and the Arabs rather than to attempt futile resistance at
the head of Byzantine troops.

"Wretched and degenerate brood!" he muttered wrathfully, and he began to
consider whether he should not quit the spot and show the arrogant Arab
that one Egyptian, at any rate, still had spirit enough to resent his
contempt, or whether he should yet wait for the sake of the good cause,
and swallow down his indignation. No! he, the son of the Mukaukas, could
not--ought not to brook such treatment. Rather would he lose his life as
a rebel, or wander an exile through the world and seek far from home a
wider field for deeds of prowess, than put his free neck under the feet
of the foe.

But his reflections were disturbed by the sound of footsteps, and
looking round he saw the gleam of lanterns moving to and fro on the
terrace, turned directly on him. These must be Amru's servants come to
conduct him to their master, who, as he supposed, would now do him the
honor to receive him--tired out with hunting, no doubt, and stretched
on his divan while he imperiously informed his guest, as if he were some
freed slave, what his wishes were.

But the steps were not those of a messenger. The great general himself
had come to welcome him; the lantern-bearers were not to show the way
to Amru's couch, but to guide Amru to the "son of his dear departed
friend." The haughty Vicar of the Khaliffs was the most cordial host,
prompted by hospitality to make his guest's brief stay beneath his roof
as pleasant as possible, and giving him the right hand of welcome.

He apologized for his prolonged absence in very intelligible Greek,
having learnt it in his youth as a caravan-leader to Alexandria; he
expressed his regret at having left Orion to wait so long, blamed his
servants for not inviting him indoors and for neglecting to offer him
refreshment. As they crossed the garden-terrace he laid his hand on the
youth's shoulder, explained to him that the lion he had been pursuing,
though wounded by one of his arrows, had got away, and added that he
hoped to make good his