e bazaars, putting
into order his vagabond thoughts, in a tall figure a few yards in front
of him he recognised Amos. Nervous, he halted, for he had no desire to
be interviewed by the Jew, and yet no way of escape seemed possible.

Nodding affably to the proprietor, he sat down on the floor of a shop
hard by and watched Amos. The old man was evidently interested, for he
was laughing pleasantly, and bending down to look at something on the
ground. What it was Gregorio could not see. A knot of people, also
laughing, surrounded the Jew. Gregorio was curious to see what attracted
them, but fearful of being recognised by the old man. However, after a
few moments his impatience mastered him, and he stepped up to the group.

"What is it?" he asked one of the bystanders.

"Only a baby. It's lost, I think."

Gregorio pushed his way into the centre of the crowd and suddenly became
white as death.

There, seated on the ground, was his own child, laughing and talking to
himself in a queer mixture of Greek and Arabic. Amos was bending kindly
over the youngster, giving him cakes and sweets, and making inquiries as
to the parents.

A chill fear seized on Gregorio's heart. He could not have explained the
cause, nor did he stay and try to explain it. Quickly he broke into the
midst of the circle and, catching up the boy in his arms, ran swiftly
away.

Having reached home, he kissed the boy passionately, sent for food to
Madam Marx, and wept and laughed hysterically for an hour. After a time
the boy slept, and Gregorio then paced up and down the room, smoking,
and puffing great clouds of smoke from his mouth, trying to calm
himself. But he could not throw off his excitement. He imagined the
awful home-coming had he not been to the bazaar, and he wondered what he
would have done then. A great joy possessed him to see his son safe,
and a fierce desire filled him to know who had taken the child away.
He longed for Xantippe's return that he might tell her. He forgot
completely that he had dreaded seeing her earlier this evening. Then he
began to wonder what Amos was doing at the fantasia, and why he was so
interested in the boy. Perhaps, Amos would forgive the debt for love of
the child. The idea pleased him, but he soon came to understand that
it was untenable. Oftener, indeed, he shuddered as he recalled the old
man's figure bent over the infant. A sense of danger to come overwhelmed
him. In some way he felt that the old man and th