now I
would not cross you in your present state, unless I were convinced it
is for your own good. As I have before observed, she is a good many
years your senior; she has neither birth nor money, nor anything
uncommon in good looks. If, in eight months' time, you still desire
it, I shall have no longer any right to forbid your marrying. But it
shall not be now."

The tamarisks just there were a sufficient screen. Noiselessly
Iskender surmounted the low wall and parted with his hands their
feathery boughs till he could see the disputants. The uncle's face was
richly bronzed, in striking contrast with his light blue eyes and heavy
white moustache. Clad in a white suit, with a white pith helmet on his
head, he appeared to Iskender like a portrait just begun, of which only
the hands and the flesh of the face had yet been coloured by the
artist. Of figure he was broad and upright, without a symptom of
decrepitude unless it might be the stout cane he used in walking. The
Emir looked fragile and infirm beside him, pale with the trace of
illness, and bowed by his present dejection.

"Pshaw! Bless my soul!" pursued the uncle, with a lively flourish of
his cane. "Why, every man falls in love with his nurse if she's at all
personable; it is a phase of convalescence. I could tell you of a
dozen cases, within my own personal knowledge, out in India; but I
never saw a happy marriage come of it. Now come, I only ask you to
wait eight months until you are of age--you can't call that request
unreasonable--and to stop all communications for the same period. It
will give both you and the lady time to think about it, and save you
both from rash and ill-considered action. Our good host here and the
elder ladies quite agree with me. Now sit down on this bench and rest,
while I go and get my notebook with the dates of sailing."

With that the old man went into the house, leaving the Emir alone,
resting forlornly on the garden-seat beneath a flowering tree and
staring at the ground. Iskender parted the growth of tamarisks and
stood out before him.

The Emir gave a start and a faint cry, with eyes dilated. Iskender
pounced on his hand and, murmuring words of love, essayed to kiss it.
It was snatched from him.

"What the devil are you doing here? Get out, I say!" The Frank spoke
low and angrily, with a glance at his hands which cursed their present
helplessness. "If I were not so confoundedly weak, I would send you
fly