posed that all the other truculent ruffians were going to try
to follow our example, at any rate the man on duty lost his head
and shouted to his men to shut the gate again. Before they could
do it every one of Anazeh's gang had forced his way through.
There we all were on forbidden ground, with a great iron-studded
gate slammed and bolted behind us. To judge by the row outside
the keepers of the gate had got their hands full.

In front of us was a short flight of stone steps, and another
great wooden door set in stone posts under a Roman arch. There
were only two armed men leaning against it. They eyed Anazeh and
our numbers nervously.

"Open!"

Anazeh could use his voice like a whip-crack. They fumbled with
the great bolt and obeyed, swinging the door wide. I thought for
a minute that my arrogant old protector meant to ride up the
steps and through the door into the mejlis hall with all his men;
but he was not quite so high-handed as that.

After a good long look through the door, I suppose to make sure
there was no ambush inside waiting for him, he dismounted, and
ordered his men to occupy a stable-building across the courtyard,
from which it would have been impossible to dislodge them without
a siege. Then, when he had seen the last man disappear into it,
he led me and Mahommed ben Hamza up the steps.

Ben Hamza was grinning like a schoolboy, beside himself with
delight at the prospect of elbowing among notables, as well as
inordinately proud of his new clothes and the smell of imported
soap that hung about him like an aura. But Anazeh looked like an
ancient king entering into his own. Surely there was never
another man who could stride so majestically and seem so
conscious of his own ability to override all law.

We passed under the shadowy arch and down a cool stone passage to
yet another heavy door that barred our way. Anazeh thundered on
it with his rifle-butt, for there were no attendants there to do
his bidding. There was no answer. Only a murmur of voices
within. So he thundered again, and this time the door opened
about six inches. A face peered through the opening cautiously,
and asked what was wanted.

"What is this?" asked Anazeh. "Is a mejlis held without my
presence? Since when?"

"You are too late!"

The face disappeared. Some one tried to close the door.
Anazeh's foot prevented.

"Open!" he demanded. The butt of his rifle thundered again on
the wood.

There was a ba