olence, only to surprise a train which a
blind man could have taken single-handed!

Bitterly did Iskender curse his own vain-glory which had led him to
boast at every village of his patron's greatness, and the absolute
power which he wielded in the land of his birth. He was separated now
from his dear one in the cavalcade, catching only an occasional glimpse
of his back, which had a sullen hunch. He forgot the pain of his own
face in fears for him.

At the end of an hour's slow riding, the barren waste gave place to
slopes of coarse grass, where a number of camels, sheep, and goats were
feeding peacefully. The camp of the Bedu appeared--a little town of
black tents in a hollow, from which shouts, neighs, and much barking of
dogs proceeded. Once there, Iskender lost sight of his Emir, who, as
the prisoner of importance, was taken straight to the chief's tent. He
himself was left standing with Mahmud among the tent ropes, in some
peril from the heels of tethered stallions. A smell of hairy beasts
defiled the air. Dark-skinned women and children came to stare at
them. The girls expressed compassion for Iskender's wounded face, and
cried shame on the man who had disfigured it, supposing him to be one
of their own people. The muleteer, a Muslim, made profession of his
faith, attesting the Unity of God and the Mission of Muhammad loudly,
in the evident persuasion that his hour had come.

Iskender wondered what his lord was undergoing, and then as the day
grew cooler, gave up thinking altogether, happy to lie down and rest.
The women told him he was free to walk about, but for long he felt no
call to use the privilege. At last, however, seeing his horse was
tethered close at hand, he went and took from the saddle-bags his book
and paint-box, and began to make a likeness of the scene; the women
gathered round and cried: "Ma sh' Allah!" They took the lines and
spots for magic writing, and gathered shyly round them, half expecting
apparitions.

He was in this employment when men came in haste and dragged him to the
chief's tent. He managed to stow the paint-box in his trousers, but
the book was lost.

"Allah have mercy on thee, O Iskender!" groaned Mahmud, as he was led
away. "They have slain the khawajah; now they come for thee. Well I
am a Muslim, and resign my cause to God!"

In the tabernacle of the chief, superior only in size to the rest of
the tents, the elders of the tribe were set in council, the Emi