the
approaching battle, then we shall not meet again. Should I die and yet
our arms triumph, my sons, if they survive me, will take care of you....
Ibraham venerates you as his own mother."

"Do you take Ibraham to battle?"

"The youth who can manage a steed and hold a sword is of battle age....
Do you accept my offer, Rosen-Aer?"

"Yes; I tremble at the very thought of falling into the hands of the
Franks! Sad days these are for us. We have only the choice of
servitudes. Happy, at least, are those who, like myself, meet among
their masters compassionate hearts."

"Make yourself ready.... I myself shall depart in an hour at the head of
a part of my troops. I shall come for you. We shall leave the house
together; you to proceed to the colonist who occupies my country house,
and I to march against the Frankish army."

When Abd-el-Kader returned for Rosen-Aer, he had donned his battle
costume. He wore a brilliant steel cuirass, and a red turban wrapped
around his gilded casque. A scimitar of marvelous workmanship hung from
his belt; its sheath as well as its handle of massive gold was
ornamented with arabesques of corals and diamonds. The Arab warrior said
to Rosen-Aer with suppressed emotion: "Allow me to embrace you as a
daughter."

Rosen-Aer gave Abd-el-Kader her forehead, saying: "I pray that your
children may long retain their father."

The Arab and the Gallic woman left the harem together. Outside they met
the five sons of the chief--Abd-Allah, Hasam, Abul-Casem, Mahomet and
Ibraham, the youngest, all in full armor, on horseback and carrying over
their arms long and light white woolen cloaks with black tufts. The
youngest of the family, a lad of barely fifteen, alighted from his horse
when he saw Rosen-Aer, took her hand, kissed it respectfully and said:
"You have been a mother to me; before departing for battle I greet you
as a son."

The Gallic woman thought of her son Amael, who also was fifteen years
when he departed from the valley of Charolles, and answered the young
man: "May God protect you, you who are now to incur the risk of war for
the first time!"

"'Believers, when you march upon the enemy, be unshakable,' says the
prophet," the lad replied with mild yet grave voice. "We are going to
deliver battle to the infidel Franks. I shall fight bravely under the
eyes of my father.... God alone disposes of our lives. His will be
done."

Once more kissing the hand of Rosen-Aer, the young Arab helped h