art of self-defence with the fists.

"Down with him!" shouted Osman, when he had extinguished the flames.

He seized a supple cane, or wand, as the seamen threw Foster down, and
held his feet in the air, after tearing off his shoes.

Wild with fury, Osman brought the cane down on the poor youth's soles.
It was his first taste of the bastinado. The agony took him by
surprise, and extorted a sharp yell. Next moment his teeth were in the
calf of one of the men's legs, and his right hand grasped the baggy
trousers of the other. A compound kick and plunge overturned them both,
and as they all fell into a heap, the cheek of one seaman received a
stinging blow that was meant for the middy's soles.

Things had reached this crisis, and Peter the Great, having hurled aside
his two assailants, was on the point of rushing to the rescue of his
friend, when the door burst open, and Ben-Ahmed stood before them
quivering with indignation.

"Is this your return for my forbearance? Be-gone!" he shouted to his
son in a voice of thunder.

Osman knew his father too well to require a second bidding. He left the
room angrily, and a look from Ben-Ahmed sent the four sailors after him.

The Moor was too well accustomed to his wild son's ways to require any
explanation of the cause of the fracas. Just giving one glance at his
slaves, to make sure that neither was killed, he left the room as
hastily as he had entered it.

"My poor friend," exclaimed the middy, grasping the negro's hand with a
gush of mingled enthusiasm and pity, "I trust you have not been much
injured by that inhuman brute?"

"Oh, bress you! no. It do smart a bit," returned Peter, as he put on
his shirt uneasily, "an' I's used to it, Geo'ge, you know. But how's
your poo' feet?"

"Well, I'm not vary sure," replied Foster, making a wry face as he sat
down to examine them. "How it did sting, Peter! I owe a heavy debt of
gratitude to old Ben-Ahmed for cutting it short. No, the skin's not
damaged, I see, but there are two or three most awful weals. D'you
know, I never before this day felt sorry that I wasn't born a dog!"

"Why's dat, Geo'ge?"

Because then I should have been able to make my teeth meet in yon
fellow's leg, and would have held on! Yes, I don't know what I would
not have given just at that time to have been born a mastiff, or a huge
Saint Bernard, or a thoroughbred British bull-dog, with double the usual
allowance of canines and grinders!

T