bsisted on robbery and violence, while cruelty and
injustice of the grossest kind were rampant. Whatever Islamism may have
taught them, it did not produce men or women who held the golden rule to
be a virtue, and certainly few practised it. Yet we would not be
understood to mean that there were none who did so. As there were
Christians in days of old, even in Caesar's household, so there existed
men and women who were distinguished by the Christian graces, even in
the Pirate City. Even there God had not left Himself without a witness.

As the vessel slowly entered the harbour under a very light breeze, she
was boarded by several stately officers in the picturesque costume--
turbans, red leathern boots, etcetera--peculiar to the country. After
speaking a few minutes with the captain, one of the officers politely
addressed the old Dane and his family through an interpreter; but as
they spoke in subdued tones Foster could not make out what was said.
Soon he was interrupted by a harsh order from an unknown Moor in an
unknown tongue.

An angry order invariably raised in our hero the spirit of rebellion.
He flushed and turned a fierce look on the Moor, but that haughty and
grave individual was accustomed to such looks. He merely repeated his
order in a quiet voice, at the same time translating it by pointing to
the boat alongside. Foster felt that discretion was the better part of
valour, all the more that there stood at the Moor's back five or six
powerful Arabs, who seemed quite ready to enforce his instructions.

The poor middy glanced round to see if his only friend, Peter the Great,
was visible, but he was not; so, with a flushed countenance at thus
being compelled to put his pride in his pocket, he jumped into the boat,
not caring very much whether he should break his neck by doing so with
tied hands, or fall into the sea and end his life in a shark's maw!

In a few minutes he was landed on the mole or pier, and made to join a
band of captives, apparently from many nations, who already stood
waiting there.

Immediately afterwards the band was ordered to move on, and as they
marched through the great gateway in the massive walls Foster felt as if
he were entering the portals of Dante's Inferno, and had left all hope
behind. But his feelings misled him. Hope, thank God! is not easily
extinguished in the human breast. As he tramped along the narrow and
winding streets, which seemed to him an absolute labyrint