r
now, I pray thee, and make straight the bed. I cannot do it in the
manner thou didst teach me. I myself must go into the village and buy
fruit of some kind."

Iskender made the bed with loving touches, full of thoughts of his dear
lord. He was finishing the work, when a shadow came across the sunset
at the tent-mouth. The Emir stood there as one transfixed with horror.
Iskender clasped his hands, and drooped his eyes. An oath rang forth,
a fierce hand clutched his throat, a whip descended on his back and
limbs; it burnt like fire. Iskender, maddened, closed with his
assailant, wrenched the whip from his hand and flung him off. The Emir
fell heavily. Iskender flung away the whip, and fled in terror.

What had he done? The Emir was weak through illness. His known
inferior in strength had thrown him easily. Iskender would have shed
his life-blood to recall the blow, would have borne the beating to the
end unflinching. He prayed to Allah that no hurt had come to his
beloved. Returning after dark, he interrogated Mahmud, who assured him
the Emir was just the same, no worse, no better. That was some small
comfort.

Sadly he followed in his loved one's track, through places which had
seen his former glory, secreting himself always in the village next to
which the tent was pitched, and stealing forth at evening, when the
Emir rested, to cook the supper and consult Mahmud.

"His madness grows much worse," the man informed him. "He throws
things at my head and often beats me, because I cannot do things that
are not my business, or fail to understand his words. My soul is angry
sometimes, and I long to show my strength; but behind the weakest of
these Franks there is the consul standing; and indeed it were a sin for
any man to punish one so afflicted. His face is yellow, his hands
shake. I often fear that he is going to die!"

"Allah forbid!" exclaimed Iskender fervently. It was his daily prayer
that they might reach the town and its conveniences before his sickness
quite disabled the Emir. It seemed as if this prayer was to be
answered. They had returned to within a few hours of their
starting-place, and had pitched their tent upon the coastland plain at
the foot of the hills, when Iskender one morning, in his hiding-place,
listened in vain for the accustomed noise of starting. Alarmed at
length, he quitted cover, and drew near the tent. Mahmud sat out
before it in the sunshine, cross-legged, and st