there was no
possibility of escape. Shots flew in thicker and faster among the
unfortunate Mamelukes. In vain they galloped hither and thither in hope
of finding some shelter or escape. Men and horses fell under the shower
of balls, and the open space before the palace was strewn with the
slain.

Emir Bey, one of the Mameluke chiefs, determined to make a desperate
effort for his life. He rode his spirited horse to the parapet of the
citadel wall, and urged him to take the leap. Together they go over the
wall; they are safe from the whizzing shots. Together they go down,
down. They near the ground, they touch it, they roll over together. Emir
Bey rises unhurt, but the faithful horse lies motionless. He will never
rise again. He has bought his master's life with his own.

Emir had no time to linger by the side of his faithful friend. Every
moment was precious. Happily for him, an Albanian camp was at hand. He
rushed into the nearest tent and threw himself on the kindness and
generosity of the officer to whom it belonged.

The officer contrived to hide him for some days. But Emir Bey's
wonderful leap became talked of, and the story came to the pacha's ears.
Orders were given that the person who had sheltered Emir should deliver
him up to the pacha; but the officer resolved that he would not give him
up. He provided Emir with a horse and helped him to escape into Asia,
where he would be safe.

Some years afterwards Mohammed Ali heard where Emir Bey was living, and
invited him to come back to Cairo, settled a pension on him, and made
him many friendly offers. But Emir Bey would never trust the pacha
again. He lived at Acre for the rest of his life, and died there.

Hugh and Lucy listened breathlessly to this story. When it was finished
Lucy said, "I am so glad Emir Bey would not go back. I was afraid he
might."

"Was it safe for the officer to hide him?" asked Hugh.

"No, he did it at the risk of his life."

"What a noble man! Did he know Emir Bey before?"

"Probably not. He saw a stranger in distress, and risked his life to
help him."

"How generous!" Hugh cried. "Emir Bey must have felt as though he could
never do enough to show his gratitude. I wonder whether they ever met
again."

This no one could tell. But the noble act of the Albanian officer led us
to talk of the gracious Saviour, who came from heaven, not only to risk
his life, but to give it for us. He gave it, not for those who had done
him neither