g before it aside,
and were stepping out when a couple of guns were presented at their
breasts, and they were angrily bidden to go back.

It was a rude reminder that they were no longer upon a touring journey,
and the fact was farther impressed upon them, after a breakfast of
yaourt or curd, bread, and some very bad coffee, by a visit from the
chief and half a dozen men.

Yussuf was called upon to interpret, and that which he had to say was
unpalatable enough, for he had to bid them empty their pockets, and pass
everything they possessed over to their captors.

Watches, purses, pocket-books, all had to go; but it was in vain to
resist, and everything was handed over without a word, till it came to
Mr Burne's gold snuff-box, and this he slipped back into his pocket.

The attempt to save it was in vain; two sturdy scoundrels seized him,
one on each side, and the snuff-box was snatched away by the chief
himself.

He uttered a few guttural sounds as he opened the box, and seemed
disappointed as he found therein only a little fine brown dust, into
which he thrust his finger and thumb.

He looked puzzled and held it to his nose, giving a good sniff, with the
result that he inhaled sufficient of the fine dust to make him sneeze
violently, and scatter the remainder of the snuff upon the earth.

Mr Burne made a start forward, but he was roughly held back, and the
chief then turned to Yussuf.

"Tell them," he said in his own tongue, "to write to their friends, and
ask for the ransom--two thousand pounds each, and to say that if the
money is not given their heads will be sent. Bid them write."

The fierce-looking scoundrel turned and stalked out of the place with
his booty, and the moment he was free, Mr Burne dropped upon his knees
and began sweeping the fallen snuff together in company with a great
deal of dust and barley chaff, carefully placing the whole in his
handkerchief ready for clearing as well as he could at his leisure.

"That's just how they served us," said Mrs Chumley dolefully. "I
thought they would treat you the same."

"So did I," said her husband dolefully. "They've got my gold repeater,
and--"

"Now, Charley, don't--don't--don't bother Mr Preston about that
miserable watch of yours, and I do wish you wouldn't talk so much."

"But we must talk, madam," cried Mr Burne. "Here, you, Yussuf, what's
to be done?"

"I can only give one piece of advice, effendi," said Yussuf gravely;
"Write."

"W