b conquerors of the Persian Empire at the
sack of the "White Tower"--the royal palace of Madam, the capital of the
Sassanidze. They knew that it had been originally 300 ells long and 60
ells wide, and had heard with indignation that the Khaliff Omar, who
always lived and dressed and ate like the chief of a caravan, and looked
down with contempt on all such objects of luxury, had cut this
inestimable treasure of art into pieces and divided it among the
Companions of the Prophet.

Haschim explained to them that this particular fragment had been the
share of the booty allotted to Ali, the Prophet's son-in-law. Haschim
himself had seen the work before its dismemberment at Madain, where it
hung on the wall of the magnificent throne-room, and subsequently, at
Medina.

His audience eagerly requested him to describe the other portions; he,
however, seemed somewhat uneasy, looking down at his bare feet which were
standing on the mosaic pavement, damp from the fountain; for, after the
manner of his nation, he had left his shoes in the outer room. The
governor had noticed the old man's gestures as he repeatedly put his hand
to his mouth, and while his wife, Orion, and the widow were besieging the
merchant with questions, he whispered a few words to one of the slaves.
The man vanished, and returned bringing in, by his master's orders, a
long strip of carpet which he laid in front of the Arab's brown and
strong but delicately-formed feet.

A wonderful change came over the merchant's whole being as this was done.
He drew himself up with a dignity which none of those present had
suspected in the man who had so humbly entered the room and so diligently
praised his wares; an expression of satisfaction overspread his calm,
mild features, a sweet smile parted his lips, and his kind eyes sparkled
through tears like those of a child unexpectedly pleased. Then he bowed
before the Mukaukas, touching his brow, lips and breast with the
finger-tips of the right hand to express: "All my thoughts, words and
feelings are devoted to you,"--while he said: "Thanks, Son of Menas. That
was the act of Moslem."

"Of a Christian!" cried Orion hastily. But his father shook his head
gently, and said, slowly and impressively: "Only of a man."

"Of a man," repeated the merchant, and then he added thoughtfully: "Of a
man! Yes, that is the highest mark so long as we are what we ought to be
The image of the one God. Who is more compassionate than He? And eve