weeks after he took one of
their bravest men prisoner, and hanged him with the most horrible
torture. Orbasan had had spies on his track for a long time, and now he
must die. Mustapha did not venture to oppose his purpose, as he was
thankful to get away with a whole skin himself.

At the end of the forest Orbasan stopped his horse, described the way
to my brother, offered him his hand at parting, and said: "Mustapha,
you became the guest of the robber Orbasan under singular
circumstances. I will not require you to promise that you will not
betray what you have seen and heard. You were unjustly forced to suffer
the fear of death, and I am, therefore, in your debt. Take this dagger
as a keepsake, and if you are ever in need of help, send it to me, and
I will hasten to your assistance. This purse you may be able to use on
your journey."

My brother thanked him for his generosity, and took the dagger, but
refused the purse. Orbasan pressed his hand once more, letting the
purse fall to the ground, and sprang with the speed of the wind into
the forest. When Mustapha saw that Orbasan did not intend to return for
the purse, he dismounted and picked it up, starting at the generosity
of his host, as he found it contained a large sum of gold. He thanked
Allah for his rescue, recommended the generous robber to His mercy, and
continued on his way to Balsora with a lighter heart.

Lezah, the story-teller, paused, and looked inquiringly at the merchant
who had spoken so bitterly of Orbasan. The latter said--

"Well, if all that be so, I will cheerfully reverse my judgment of
Orbasan, for he really treated your brother handsomely."

"He behaved like a true Musselman," exclaimed Muley. "But I hope your
story was not ended there, for we are all curious to hear more; how
things went with your brother, and whether he rescued your sister
Fatima and the beautiful Zoraide."

"If I do not weary you, I will willingly continue," replied Lezah; "for
this story of my brother is certainly adventurous and wonderful."

With this, he continued his story.

At noon on the seventh day of his departure from home, Mustapha entered
the gate of Balsora. As soon as he had reached a caravansary, he made
inquiries as to when the slave auction, held there every year, opened.
He received in reply the dreadful news that he had arrived two days too
late. They deplored his delay, and told him that he had missed a fine
sight, for on the last day of the