ety-eight beads, and thought they were all
there, when they suddenly rolled off the table and he had to begin his
work over again.

'Do you see,' whispered the Bassa, 'for three hours daily one collects
these coral beads, and for the same space of time the other laments over
his hand which has become black, and I am wholly ignorant what is the
cause of either misfortune.'

'Do not let us stay here,' said Sumi, 'our presence must add to their
grief. But permit me to fetch the Book of Spells, which I feel sure
will tell us not only the cause of their malady but also its cure.'

The Bassa readily agreed to Sumi's proposal, but Neangir objected
strongly. 'If Sumi leaves us,' he said to his father, 'I shall not see
my beloved Argentine when she returns to-night with the fair Aurora. And
life is an eternity till I behold her.'

'Be comforted,' replied Sumi. 'I will be back before sunset; and I leave
you my adored Izaf as a pledge.'

Scarcely had the Jewess left Neangir, when the old female slave entered
the hall where the three Jews still remained carefully guarded, followed
by a man whose splendid dress prevented Neangir from recognising at
first as the person in whose house he had dined two days before. But the
woman he knew at once to be the nurse of Zelida.

He started eagerly forward, but before he had time to speak the slave
turned to the soldier she was conducting. 'My lord,' she said, 'those
are the men; I have tracked them from the house of the Cadi to this
palace. They are the same; I am not mistaken, strike and avenge
yourself.'

As he listened the face of the stranger grew scarlet with anger. He drew
his sword and in another moment would have rushed on the Jews, when
Neangir and the slaves of the Bassa seized hold of him.

'What are you doing?' cried Neangir. 'How dare you attack those whom the
Bassa has taken under his protection?'

'Ah, my son,' replied the soldier, 'The Bassa would withdraw his
protection if he knew that these wretches have robbed me of all I have
dearest in the world. He knows them as little as he knows you.'

'But he knows me very well,' replied Neangir, 'for he has recognised me
as his son. Come with me now, into his presence.'

The stranger bowed and passed through the curtain held back by Neangir,
whose surprise was great at seeing his father spring forward and clasp
the soldier in his arms.

'What! is it you, my dear Siroco?' cried he. 'I believed you had been
slain in that