ou shall find out in good time--only, pray,
remember that I am not the Dey's Grand Vizier, and have not many places
to offer."

"Well, well, be it so," returned the other; "I am well content with what
your wisdom provides."

"And so am I," said Francisco, cheerfully. "I suppose you will feed us
better than we have been fed of late?"

"That will I, father, but there is no pay attached to your offices, for
slaves, you know, get no wages."

"They get splendid habiliments, it would seem," observed Francisco,
regarding his son with twinkling eyes. "But come, Lucien, I am all
impatience to begin the work of under-secretary of state! You bear in
remembrance, I trust, that I can read and write nothing save my mother
tongue?"

"Yes; Italian will suffice, father; such of the duties as you fail to
perform I can easily fulfil.--Now, Mariano," he said, taking his brother
aside, and speaking in a low earnest tone, "see that you act wisely in
the situation I have selected for you. The Jew is a kind, good man,
despite what is said about his worship of Mammon. I would that all in
this city were like him, for in that case we should have no slavery.
During the short period I have held my office, my eyes have been opened
to much that I may not mention. There, the very walls of this palace
have ears! I have said enough. You remember Angela?"

"Remember her!" exclaimed Mariano, with a deep flush and a look of
intense surprise, "how can you ask me, Lucien?"

"Well, you will hear of her from Bacri. Good bye--go!"

He rang a bell as he spoke, and ordered the slave who answered the
summons to lead Mariano to the abode of Bacri; at the same time he took
his father's hand and conducted him to his office or bureau.

Amazed at all that had happened, particularly at his summary dismissal
by his brother, the youth followed his conductor in silence, and in a
short time reached the iron-bolted door of the chief of the Jews.

"This is Bacri's house," said his guide in Italian, and, having
discharged this duty, he turned on his heel, and abruptly left him.

Pausing a moment to think, and finding that the more he thought the less
he seemed to be capable of thinking to any purpose, Mariano applied his
knuckles to the door.

For a youth of his character it was a timid knock, and produced no
result.

Mariano was one who--in peculiar circumstances, like those in which at
that time he found himself--might once in a way act with timidity