held out his hand English fashion,
though he spoke in Arabic.

"Harry," he said, using the English accent for the name, however, "you
remember me?"

Harry looked at him in a troubled way, and pressed his hand on his
forehead.

"I told you that you would come to me, for the inward voice, which never
errs, declared it to me," he went on. "Struggle as you might, you could
not avert your destiny. Our family is called to do a great work. I
have commenced it, and it will be yours to complete it. I am growing
old, but I can still strike a blow for the cause. May Allah grant me to
die when my right arm is powerless: to die on the field of battle, in
the moment of victory, with my face to the foe! Yes, you are clearly
destined to lead the hosts of Islam. Have you not come out to me alone,
leaving home and friends? Have you not traversed the desert without
guide, still alone; and though struck down by an unknown hand, have we
not met? Have you not miraculously learned the language of the country
to which destiny called you? Were you not brought when found, to all
appearance dead, to the fakir, Abdul Achmet, the one man of all others I
would have directed you to? And the blind fools of Europe would call
this chance, as they do everything which they cannot attribute to their
own forethought or cunning."

"Yes, I know you," said Harry, at length; "you are my uncle Ralph, the
Sheikh Burrachee. But I think I have been ill, and everything is like a
dream to me. Were there not a signet-ring, and a paper in a silver
case, and jewels of value which you gave me?"

At that instant Abdul Achmet came out of the mosque, and the Sheikh
Burrachee advanced to meet him, leaving Harry more bewildered and
disturbed in mind than he had been since he was brought to the oasis;
and that night he had a relapse of fever. It did not prove serious,
however, and when it passed away his mind was clearer than before,
though he still seemed like one in a dream, and the past events of his
life appeared to him as having happened to some one else.

On the morning after his arrival the Sheikh Burrachee left, but some
weeks afterwards he returned with an escort and an easy-paced hygeen to
take Harry away with him. He took the announcement of the journey with
the placid indifference which now characterised him, only at the moment
of starting he showed reluctance to part from his black nurse, Fatima.
But whether the sheikh bought her, or only bo