ears at this.

"Come on," he said, moving forward briskly.

"To this seraglio?"

"Aye."

"Why, you rash boy," said the Irish Turk, with a frightened look, "do
you know what you are talking about?"

"Well, yes, I think so," said Jack; "dancing Circassian girls and the
seraglio was the topic of the conversation, unless I am wandering in my
mind."

"Faith, ye must be mad," said the Irishman, gravely; "why, they'd think
hanging too good for any man that even looked at the harem."

"So should I," returned Jack; "I've no wish to be hanged; it's too good
for me. Come on."

"Don't be foolish; it's death, if we're caught."

"All right," said Jack, cheerfully; "it's sure then that we mustn't be
caught, but I don't mean to miss the chance all the same."

The Irishman resisted stoutly.

But Jack was more obstinate than he was, and so the Irishman was forced
to yield a point.

"I know where there's a gallery that overlooks the harem, and you can
see all the fun of the fair without being observed."

"You seem to know the place very well," said Jack.

"Very."

"But of course you have never been to this identical gallery before?"
said Jack, innocently.

"Never--never."

His eagerness to impress this upon them told its own tale.

"I should think that's true, Jack," said Harry, demurely.

"Oh, yes, quite," said Jack, winking at Harry.

The Irishman led the way along a paved passage, at the end of which was
an arched entrance to an apartment, closed off only by a heavy curtain.

"You see that curtain?" whispered their guide.

"Yes."

"That's the harem."

"Come on, then," said Jack, eagerly.

"Stop, stop!" exclaimed the Irishman. "The other side of the curtain
are two----"

Before he could complete the sentence, the curtain was dragged aside,
and two armed negroes appeared.

Their appearance was sudden and startling.

Each carried a drawn sword, a scimitar of formidable size.

They looked about as ugly customers as you would wish to see.

"Two eunuchs," whispered the Irishman, "they are guarding the seraglio.
Come away."

"Ugly enough for heathen gods," whispered Harry Girdwood.

The two eunuchs stood like statues on guard.

The slipper merchant said something to them in Turkish which appeared
to satisfy them.

"Massa Jack," whispered Tinker, who was one of the party, tugging at
his young master's sleeve, "Massa Jack."

"What now?"

"Dat one ob de beasts what chuck de pusson in de water ali