glishman would
prove true, and with the determination of taking the life of the latter
should he find himself deceived. He placed more faith in the story told
him by the sheik than in the mere hypothesis of the pilgrim, that the
white slaves would certainly find some one to ransom them.

His journey was partly undertaken through a sense of duty. After the
promise made to the slaves, he thought it but right to become fully
convinced that they were not to be redeemed before the idea of taking
them to Mogador could be honourably abandoned.

He pressed forward upon his journey with the perseverance and
self-denial so peculiar to his race. After crossing the spurs of the
Atlas Mountains he reached, on the evening of the third day, a small
walled town, within three hours' ride of the famed seaport of Mogador.

Here he stopped for the night, intending to proceed to the city early on
the next morning. Immediately on entering the town, Bo Muzem met a
person whose face wore a familiar look.

It was the grazier to whom, but a few days before, he had sold the two
slaves, Terence and Jim.

"Ah my friend, you have ruined me!" exclaimed the grazier, after the
first salutations had passed between them. "I have lost those two
useless Christian dogs you sold me, and I am a ruined man."

Bo Muzem requested him to explain himself.

"After your departure," said the grazier, "I tried to get some work out
of the infidels; but they would not obey me; and I believed they would
have died before doing anything to make themselves useful. As I am a
poor man, I could not afford to keep them in idleness; nor yet to kill
them, which I had a strong inclination to do. The day after you left
me, I received intelligence from Swearah, which commanded me to go there
immediately no business of importance; and thinking that possibly some
Christian fool in that place might give something for his infidel
countrymen, I took the two dogs along with me.

"They promised that, if I would carry them to the English consul, he
would pay a large price for their ransom. When we entered Mogador, and
reached the consul's house, the dogs told me that they were free; and
defied me to take them out of the city. I could not get a piastre for
my trouble and expense. The governor of Swearah and the Emperor of
Morocco are on good terms with the infidels' Government; and they also
hate us Arabs of the desert. There is no justice in Mogador for such as
we. If y