n," returned Omar, as he
regarded the dead man with a stern glance; "he was one of the most
turbulent of our slaves."

"And one of the most severely tried," said Giovanni, looking gently in
the face of the Minister of Marine.

"He had all the advantages and comforts of other slaves; I know not what
you mean by `tried,'" retorted Omar, with a grim smile.

"He was wrenched, with his family, from home and friends and earthly
hope, twenty years ago; he saw his children perish one by one under
cruel treatment; he saw his wife sold into slavery, though he did not
see her die--as I did--of a broken heart, and he suffered all the
torments that ingenuity could devise before his spirit was set free."

Giovanni said this slowly and very gently, but two bright red spots on
his pale careworn cheeks showed that he spoke with strong emotion.

"Well, well," returned Omar, with a sinister smile, "that gives him all
the better chance in the next life; for, according to the faith of you
Christians, his sufferings here go to make weight in the matter of his
salvation. Is it not so?"

"Men who call themselves Christians," said the Padre, "do not all hold
the same faith. There are those who appear to me to wrest Scripture to
their own destruction; they find in one part thereof a description of
true faith as distinguished from a dead, false, or spurious faith, which
reveals its worthlessness by the absence of `works,' and, founding on
that, they refuse to accept the other portion of Scripture which saith
that `by the works of the law shall no man living be justified.' I,
with many others, hold that there is no merit in our simply suffering.
The sufferings and the obedience of Jesus Christ in our stead is all the
merit on which we rest our hopes of salvation."

"It may be so, Giovanni," returned Omar carelessly, "but I profess not
to understand such matters. The slave is dead, and thou hast one less
to care for."

With this sentiment, accompanied by a smile of pity and a shake of his
head, the Minister of Marine left the Padre, and directed his steps
towards the town. On his way he met the court story-teller or jester.

"Thou art early astir, Hadji Babi," he said. "Is there aught in the
wind?"

"There is much in the wind," answered the jester gravely; "there is
oxygen and nitrogen, if philosophers be right--which is an open
question--and there is something lately discovered which they call
ozone. Discoveries in time past giv