w this man, her husband.
Circumstances caused her to incur his apparently righteous anger, to
be sent out into the world as one unworthy to bear his name.

All this she has borne meekly, doing good wherever Heaven chose to send
her. The terrible infliction has tried her soul, and she has been
purified as by fire.

After this life suffering she now finds this husband at her feet. His
proud spirit is broken, and he seeks forgiveness.

She has long since learned to put away the ordinary small feelings that
actuate so many of her sex; but being still human, she cannot but feel
gratified at the vindication that has come.

John holds his breath and awaits the outcome of this strange event. He
remembers the sudden rage of the old Moor on the previous occasion, when
he told him he was a Craig, and fully expects to hear something from the
same source again.

Nor is he mistaken.

Ben Taleb has been listening intently, and not a word of what has
passed escapes his ear. He catches the confession of the man who humbles
himself, and his eyes blaze.

Almost immediately he claps his hands, and half a dozen armed retainers
make their appearance, springing from some unknown quarter.

"You have dared enter my house. You, a Craig, who brought years of
suffering upon the woman we revere. It is well. Allah has sent you here.
Mohammed is satisfied to leave you to our hands. I will be merciful, as
the hyena is merciful. Instead of having you torn to pieces I will order
you shot. You will learn that a Moor knows how to avenge the wrongs of
one for whom he entertains feelings of gratitude."

His words are cutting and cruel, and John, expecting every second to see
the slaves make their savage assault upon his father, holds himself in
readiness to jump forward and assist him.

The situation is indeed critical.

It looks as though a very trifling matter would precipitate a riot, in
which deadly weapons must be used.

Duncan Craig has made a terrible mistake in his past. He has been known
as a cold, proud man, though much of this has been assumed in order to
deceive himself. Yet no one ever called him a coward.

He knows that bodily danger menaces him, and as a soldier his spirit is
at once in arms.

Springing to his feet, he faces the old Moor.

His arms are folded. Upon his face can be seen a defiant light.

"I have entered your house, Ben Taleb, unarmed, bent upon a mission of
love. To humble myself. You may have the power to