gh the gate and along the main street of the city a
considerable distance, before Foster could find words to express his
feelings, and then he had difficulty in restraining his indignation on
finding that the negro was not nearly as much affected as he himself was
by the tragedy which they had just witnessed.

"We's used to it, you know," said Peter in self-defence. "I's seen 'em
hangin' alibe on dem hooks for hours. But dat's nuffin to what some on
'em do. Look dar; you see dat ole man a-sittin' ober dere wid de small
t'ings for sale--him what's a-doin' nuffin, an' sayin' nuffin, an'
almost expectin' nuffin? Well, I once saw dat ole man whacked for
nuffin--or next to nuffin--on de sole ob his foots, so's he couldn't
walk for 'bout two or t'ree mont's."

They had reached the market-square by that time, and Foster saw that the
man referred to was the identical old fellow with the blue coat and
hood, the white beard, and the miscellaneous old articles for sale, whom
he had observed on his first visit to the square. The old Arab gave
Peter the Great a bright look and a cheerful nod as they passed.

"He seems to know you," remarked Foster.

"Oh yes. He know me. I used to carry him on my back ebery mornin' to
his place here dat time when he couldn't walk. Bress you! dar's lots o'
peepil knows me here. Come, I'll 'troduce you to some more friends, an'
we'll hab a cup o' coffee."

Saying this, he conducted our middy into a perfect labyrinth of narrow
streets, through which he wended his way with a degree of certainty that
told of intimate acquaintance. Foster observed that he nodded
familiarly to many of those who crowded them--to Jews, Arabs,
water-carriers, and negroes, as well as to the dignified men who kept
little stalls and shops, many of which shops were mere niches in the
sides of the houses. So close were the fronts of these houses to each
other that in many places they almost met overhead and obscured much of
the light.

At last the middy and his friend stopped in front of a stair which
descended into what appeared to be a dark cellar. Entering it, they
found themselves in a low Arab coffee-house.

CHAPTER SIX.

OUR HERO SEES THE MOORS IN SEVERAL ASPECTS, AND MAKES A GREAT DISCOVERY.

Whatever may be said of Mohammedanism as a religion, there can be no
question, we should think, that it has done much among the Eastern
nations to advance the cause of Temperance.

We make no defence of Moham