had
finished a painting of the central court, his master was so pleased with
the way in which he had drawn and coloured the various shrubs and
flowers which grew there, that he ordered him forthwith to commence a
series of drawings of the garden from various points of view. In one of
these Foster introduced such a life-like portrait of Peter the Great
that Ben-Ahmed was charmed, and immediately gave orders to have most of
his slaves portrayed while engaged in their various occupations.

In work of this kind many months were spent, for Foster was a
painstaking worker. He finished all his paintings with minute care,
having no capacity for off-hand or rapid sketching. During this period
the engrossing nature of his work--of which he was extremely fond--
tended to prevent his mind from dwelling too much on his condition of
slavery, but it was chiefly the knowledge that Hester Sommers was under
the same roof, and the expectation that at any moment he might encounter
her, which reconciled him to his fate, and even made him cheerful under
it.

But as week after week passed away, and month after month, without even
a flutter of her dress being seen by him, his heart failed him again,
and he began to fear that Ben-Ahmed's son Osman might have returned and
carried her off as his bride, or that she might have been sold to some
rich Moor--even to the Dey himself! Of course his black friend
comforted him with the assurance that Osman had not returned, and that
Ben-Ahmed was not the man to sell a slave he was fond of; but such
assurances did not afford him much comfort. His mind was also burdened
with anxiety about his mother and sister.

He was sitting one day while in this state at an angle of the garden
trying to devote his entire mind to the portrayal of a tree-fern, and
vainly endeavouring to prevent Hester Sommers from coming between him
and the paper, when he was summoned to attend upon Ben-Ahmed. As this
was an event of by no means uncommon occurrence, he listlessly gathered
up his materials and went into the house.

He found the Moor seated cross-legged on a carpet, smoking his hookah,
with only a negress in attendance. His easel, he found, was already
placed, and, to his surprise, he observed that the original drawing with
which his career as a painter had commenced was placed upon it.

"I wish you to finish that picture by introducing a figure," said
Ben-Ahmed, with solemn gravity.

He spoke in Lingua Franca,