chant from his saddle. The
son heard his father's voice, he heard his own name mentioned; but he
fancied his father was threatening him, and clung to his horse still
more tightly.

A steep mountain torrent ran across the road in front of them. If only
the Greek could succeed in getting across it with but two minutes to
spare, so that he might pitch the little wooden bridge over it down
into the abyss below, he would be saved, for the space between the two
steep mountain-sides was much too wide for a horse to leap, and a ford
was not to be found within an hour's ride.

By the time they came to the bridge the pursuing Circassians were
scarcely distant more than three gunshots, and Kasi Mollah was riding
well in advance of the rest. He must needs overtake them before the
Greek could push the bridge over.

At that instant the horse on which Milieva sat slightly stumbled, and
plunging forward on to its knees, fractured its leg.

"Hah!" cried the sheik, with wild delight, "I have got back one of my
children, at any rate."

But how amazed was he when he saw Milieva, instead of running to him
or even remaining in the road, cry out in terror to her brother and
raise her arms towards him, and Thomar, never expecting to save her,
bent down from his horse, and grasping his sister round the waist with
a swift hand, placed her in the saddle in front of him, casting a wild
look behind him, and then galloping on farther.

Kasi Mollah suddenly reined in his flying horse and stopped short,
allowing them to escape. Not a step farther did he pursue them. By the
time his comrades had joined him the Greek was well on the other side
of the bridge, and they could all see Thomar helping the merchant to
cast it down.

Two burning tear-drops stood in Kasi Mollah's eyes. They really
burned, and he felt the pain. And yet--and yet, when the two children
sat in the saddle again, Milieva extended her hands towards her father
as if in most ardent supplication. What was the meaning of it?

The good Greek shortly afterwards arrived safely in Smyrna with the
children, and had them taught singing, riding, and how to walk about
in nice clothes, and some years after he sold them to the Seraglio of
the Grand Vizier for two thousand sequins.

And all that he had said at random to the children during the journey,
to cheer their spirits, actually came to pass, as we shall presently
see.

When Sultan Mahmoud lost his favorite damsel so strangely, Mil