er, where a few fine houses still
stood in the midst of their gardens. When men and beasts were making
their way along a better pavement the merchant observed: "I knew the
father of the man you were speaking of, very well. He was wealthy
and virtuous; of his son too I hear nothing but good. But is he
still allowed to bear the title of governor, or, what did you call
him?--Mukaukas?"

"Certainly, Master," said the guide. "There is no older family than his
in all Egypt, and if old Menas was rich the Mukaukas is richer, both
by inheritance and by his wife's dower. Nor could we wish for a more
sensible or a juster governor! He keeps his eye on his underlings too;
still, business is not done now as briskly as formerly, for though he
is not much older than I am--and I am not yet sixty--he is always ailing
and has not been seen out of the house for months. Even when your chief
wants to see him he comes over to this side of the river. It is a pity
with such a man as he; and who was it that broke down his stalwart
strength? Why, those Melchite dogs; you may ask all along the Nile, long
as it is, who was at the bottom of any misfortune, and you will always
get the same answer: Wherever the Melchite or the Greek sets foot the
grass refuses to grow."

"But the Mukaukas, the emperor's representative... the Arab began. The
Egyptian broke in however:

"He, you think, must be safe from them? They did not certainly injure
his person; but they did worse, for when the Melchites rose up against
our party--it was at Alexandria, and the late Greek patriarch Cyrus
had a finger in that pie--they killed his two sons, two fine, splendid
men--killed them like dogs; and it crushed him completely."

"Poor man!" sighed the Arab. "And has he no child left?"

"Oh, yes. One son, and the widow of his eldest. She went into a convent
after her husband's death, but she left her child, her little Mary--she
must be ten years old now--to live with her grandparents."

"That is well," said the old man, "that will bring some sunshine into
the house."

"No doubt, Master. And just lately they have had some cause for
rejoicing. The only surviving son--Orion is his name--came home only the
day before yesterday from Constantinople where he has been for a long
time. There was a to-do! Half the city went crazy. Thousands went out to
meet him, as though he were the Saviour; they erected triumphal arches,
even folks of my creed--no one thought of hanging back. On