tain two millions of piastres,' added Amalek.

'Two millions of piastres! Why not at once ask for the throne of
Solomon?'

'Which would be given, if required,' rejoined Amalek. 'Was it not said
in the divan of Besso, that if this Prince of Franguestan wished to
rebuild the Temple, the treasure would not be wanting?'

'Said by some city gossip,' said Eva, scornfully.

'Said by your father, daughter of Besso, who, though he lives in cities,
is not a man who will say that almonds are pearls.'

Eva controlled her countenance, though it was difficult to conceal her
mortification as she perceived how well informed her grandfather was of
all that passed under their roof, and of the resources of his prisoner.
It was necessary, after the last remark of the great Sheikh, to take
new ground, and, instead of dwelling, as she was about to do, on the
exaggeration of public report, and attempting to ridicule the vast
expectations of her host, she said, in a soft tone, 'You did not ask me
why Besso was in such affliction, father of my mother?'

'There are many sorrows: has he lost ships? If a man is in sound health,
all the rest are dreams. And Besso needs no hakeem, or you would not be
here, my Rose of Sharon.'

'The light may have become darkness in our eyes, though we may still eat
and drink,' said Eva. 'And that has happened to Besso which might have
turned a child's hair grey in its cradle.'

'Who has poisoned his well? Has he quarrelled with the Porte?' said the
Sheikh, without looking at her.

'It is not his enemies who have pierced him in the back.'

'Humph,' said the great Sheikh.

'And that makes his heart more heavy,' said Eva.

'He dwells too much in walls,' said the great Sheikh. 'He should have
ridden into the desert, instead of you, my child. He should have brought
the ransom himself; 'and the great Sheikh sent two curling streams out
of his nostrils.

'Whoever be the bearer, he is the payer,' said Eva. 'It is he who is the
prisoner, not this son of Franguestan, who, you think, is your captive.'

'Your father wishes to scrape my piastres,' said the great Sheikh, in a
stern voice, and looking his granddaughter full in the face.

'If he wanted to scrape piastres from the desert,' said Eva, in a sweet
but mournful voice, 'would Besso have given you the convoy of the Hadj
without condition or abatement?'

The great Sheikh drew a long breath from his chibouque. After a
momentary pause, he said, 'In a family