ssed he left it in the hands of Osman,
who seemed even more anxious than his father to recover the lost slave.

As the midshipman was leaving the court the Moor called him back,
addressing him as usual in Lingua Franca, while the youth, taking his
cue from Peter the Great, answered in English.

"You know something about this English girl?" he suddenly said, with a
steady look at his slave.

"I--I--yes, I _do_ know something about her," replied Foster, in some
confusion.

"Do you know where she hides?"

"N-no; I do not."

"I have been led to understand that British officers never tell lies,"
returned the Moor sternly.

The blood rushed to the middy's face as he replied boldly, "You have
been correctly informed--at least, in regard to those officers who are
true gentlemen."

"Why, then, do you hesitate?" retorted the Moor. "Do Englishmen blush
and stammer when they tell the truth? Tell me the truth _now_. Do you
know where the English girl hides?"

The Moor spoke very sternly, but his slave, instead of becoming more
confused, suddenly drew himself up, and replied in a voice and with a
look as stern as his own--

"Ben-Ahmed, I told you the truth at first. I do _not_ know where she is
hiding. I _did_, indeed, know some time ago, but the place of her abode
has been changed, and I do not know now. I may as well however say at
once that, if I did know, nothing that you can do would induce me to
tell you where she hides. You may imprison, torture, or slay me if you
choose, but in regard to Hester Sommers I am from this moment dumb!"

There was a curious smile on the Moor's lips while the midshipman
delivered this speech with flashing eyes and energetic action, but there
was no anger in his tone as he replied--

"Englishman," he said quietly, "you _love_ this girl." If a bombshell
had exploded under his feet our middy could hardly have been taken more
by surprise. But he had been put on his mettle now, and scorned to show
again a wavering front.

"Yes, Moor," he replied, "I _do_ love her, though I have never told her
so, nor have I the slightest reason to believe that she cares a fig for
_me_. But I now tell you plainly that I will take advantage of every
opportunity that comes in my way to serve her and help her to escape. I
now also recall the promise--the word of honour--I gave you, not to try
to escape. There was a time," continued the middy, in a softened tone,
"when I thought of recalling this