not know the name of the lady in the yashmak,"
objected Alexander.

Paul shrugged his shoulders, and said nothing. Both men rose, and began
to go down the green lane, returning towards Mesar Burnu. By this time
the sun had sunk low behind the western hills, and the cool of the
evening had descended on the woods and the Valley of Roses. The green
grass and the thick growth of shrubs took a darker color, and the first
dampness of the dew was in the air. The two walked briskly down the
path. Suddenly a turn in the narrow way brought them face to face with a
party of three persons, strolling slowly towards them.

"Luck!" ejaculated Alexander. "Here they are again!"

He was right. There was no mistaking the lady with the thick,
impenetrable veil, nor her companion, whose heavy dark face was
distinctly visible through the thin Indian gauze. Behind them walked the
hideous negro, swinging his light cane jauntily, but beginning to cast
angry glances at the two Russians, whom he had already recognized. The
way was very narrow, and the ladies saw that retreat was impossible.
Paul bit his lip, fearing some foolish rashness on the part of his
brother. As they all met, the ladies drew close to the hedge on one side
of the path, their black attendant standing before them, as though to
prevent the Giaours from even brushing against the wide silken ferigees
of his charges. Paul pushed his brother in front of him, hoping that
Alexander would have the sense to pass quietly by; but he trembled for
the result.

Alexander moved slowly forward, turning his head as he passed, and
looking long into the black eyes of the veiled lady.

"Pek guezel,--very pretty indeed," he said aloud, using the only words of
Turkish he had learned in three weeks. But they were enough; the effect
was instantaneous. Without a word and without hesitation, the tall negro
struck a violent blow at Alexander with the light bamboo he carried.
Paul, who was immediately behind his brother, saw the action and caught
the man's hand in the air, but the end of the flexible cane flew down
and knocked Alexander's hat from his head.

"Run!" cried Paul excitedly, as the negro struggled in his grip.

The two Turkish ladies laughed aloud. They were used to such adventures,
but the spectacle of the negro beating a Frank gentleman was novel and
refreshing. Alexander picked up his hat, but showed no disposition to
move. The African struggled vainly in Paul's powerful arms.

"