s as any that Elias had related, and
true, for who save Allah had surveyed the whole wide world, and could
deny the existence somewhere of a plain all gold. Moreover, it would
be a story after the Emir's own heart, concerning, as it would, the
search for treasure.

"If I say that I myself beheld the place, it will be false," thought
Iskender to himself, "because I am young and every one knows that I
have never travelled. But suppose I say my father saw it, then it will
be true, for my father is dead and he travelled far in his day, and
Allah alone knows what he saw or did not see."

The rest of that night was spent upon the story, considering in what
manner it should be revealed, with what precautions and what vows of
secrecy. As it shaped itself in his mind it seemed a fortune hardly
less than that he had beheld in sleep. He rose at daybreak,
thought-worn but light of heart. As it happened, that morning, his
mother sent him to the Mission with a message concerning some mistake
she had discovered in the tale of the last week's washing. He had to
wait the pleasure of the ladies, to carry a message from them to his
mother, and bring back her answer; so that it was past the usual hour
when he reached the hotel. He met the Emir and Elias going out
together.

"His Excellency has graciously consented to honour with his presence an
orange-garden which belongs to me," said the dragoman to Iskender in
Arabic. "The weather is fine, like summer; the fruit ripens. It will
be pleasant reclining in the shade."

The whole world swam before Iskender's eyes around the handsome figure
of Elias, whose scarlet dust-cloak seemed a flame of fire. What was a
plain of gold in the truest of stories to compare with an orange-garden
actually existent close at hand? He had prepared to vanquish Elias in
one sphere, and the coward leapt into another where he could not reach
him. Never till now had he heard that Elias owned a garden. This was
the end. Iskender resigned a contest so unequal. He heard the Emir
invite him to go with them, but shook his head, quite unable to
articulate a reply. The despair of his mother, the hateful triumph of
the missionaries, the derisive laughter of the dragomans, came before
his mind. Some one, passing by, gave a chuckle. He sprang to
self-consciousness with the impression that the whole world laughed.
The doorway of the hotel was near. He fled through it, pretending that
he had come to claim