ent she forgot
herself, and prayed still more fervently for the deliverance of her
father.

The view over the housetops from the little window was absolutely
magnificent, including as it did domes, minarets, mosques, palm-trees,
shipping, and sea! Here, for a considerable time, Hester worked at her
former occupation, for Dinah had a private plan to make a little money
for her own pocket by means of embroidery.

In this pleasant retreat our fugitive was visited one day by Peter the
Great, the expression of whose visage betokened business. After some
conversation, he said that he had come for the express purpose of taking
Hester to see her father.

"But not to talk to him," he added quickly--"not eben to make you'self
known to him, for if you did, not'ing would keep 'im quiet, an' you an'
he would be parted _for eber_. Mind dat--for _eber_!"

"Yes, yes, I will remember," said the poor girl, who was profoundly
agitated at the mere thought of such a meeting.

"But you mus' _promise_," said Peter solemnly.

"Promise on you' word ob honour dat you not say one word; not make a
sound; not gib an unor'nary look; not try in any way to attrack his
attention. Come--speak, else I go home ag'in."

"I promise," said Hester, in a low voice.

"An' you won't cry?"

"I'll try not to."

"Come 'long, den, wid me, an' see you' poor fadder."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE MIDDY, BECOMING DEFIANT AND VIOLENT, COMES TO GRIEF, AND HESTER'S
BLACK FRIENDS DEVISE STRANGE THINGS.

On the afternoon of the day in which Peter the Great paid his visit to
Hester Sommers in the little boudoir, Ben-Ahmed sent for George Foster
and bade him make a portrait of a favourite dog.

It so happened that our artist had run short of some of his drawing
materials, and said that he could not get on well without them.

"Go to the town, then, got a supply, and return quickly," said
Ben-Ahmed, who was smoking his hookah in the court at the time and
playing gently with the lost Hester's pet gazelle.

The graceful little creature had drooped since the departure of his
mistress, as if he felt her loss keenly. Perhaps it was sympathy that
drew it and Ben-Ahmed more together than in times past. Certainly there
seemed to be a bond of some sort between them at that time which had not
existed before, and the Moor was decidedly more silent and sad since
Hester's flight. In his efforts to recover the runaway he had at first
taken much trouble, but as time pa