ndless Power, he gained at
length a certain comfort in dependence such as the baser sort of slaves
enjoy.

This mood of resignation was still upon him when he rose at daybreak.
There remained nothing possible for him to do; and in the fresh
morning, when the rocks in sight presented each its separate mass of
living colour, he could not believe that the Emir would quarrel with
him, even if he knew the worst. The Emir was a rich man; what did he
want with gold? And had not Iskender proved himself his faithful
servant? Surely the great one felt some love for him, sufficient to
condone a little fiction which had been kept up simply for his Honour's
pleasure.

But the Frank had his map before him in the saddle, and he more than
once dismounted to consult the compass on his watch-chain.

After three hours they reached a plain of alternating sand and rocks,
where nothing grew except some prickly shrub. On one side, not far
off, a lake was seen, with many palm-trees mirrored in its tranquil
waters. The Frank stared at it in amazement, remarking that it was not
in the map. Iskender guessed it was mirage, and was soon confirmed in
that opinion by the gradual disappearance of both lake and palm-trees.
But the vision tended to reassure him, seeming a word from the Most
High. If Allah, he thought, could thus imprint a perfect likeness of
trees and water on the hot, still air, He would have no difficulty in
painting a few rocks golden.

The sun was fierce. For miles they saw no shade, but only strange
rock-ledges rising no higher than a doorstep above the sand, which grew
low, prickly shrubs. A range of hills before them seemed hopelessly
remote. Near the middle of this waste, the Emir drew rein.

"The valley should be here," he said with finger on the map; and
Iskender in the tension of his nerves was going to shout out "Praise to
Allah," for the sand just there was full of shining particles; when the
next words came and froze him to the marrow: "There's no valley;
nothing but this beastly plain. Are you a liar?"

A trace of kindness or dry humour in his tone would have compelled
Iskender to confess the truth, with self-accusal. As it was, he cried:

"Haf batience! Wait a minute! I had counted wrong. See, there are
mountains! Surely the wady will be there among them." Inwardly he
prayed Allah to make good his words, to save him from the scorn of one
he loved so truly.

"Well, come on!" said the Emir, with