der, however, still held back, from no conscientious reluctance,
but merely to prolong a hesitation which he found delicious as giving
him value in the eyes of the girl Nesibeh. Her delight when any of his
objections went down before her father's reasoning and the triumphant
private glance she shot at him made a joy not lightly to be forgone.
When all his veritable doubts had been demolished, he invented others
to prolong this happiness. He cherished definite hopes, dream-like as
was the nature of his mental process, of obtaining her for his own,
when he returned full of treasure from Wady 'l Muluk. The big priest,
it was clear, had conceived a liking for him, and had come to count on
his visits of an evening, loving an argument; her mother always blessed
him when he came and went, and baked choice sweetmeats for his
delectation.

It was not long before Iskender received evidence that the question of
his change of faith possessed a lively interest for others besides the
priest Mitri and his lovely daughter. One day, returning from a walk
with the Emir, he heard that the missionary had been inquiring for him
in his absence; and the following evening, on the road to Mitri's
house, he was overtaken by the Father of Ice in person, who got down
off his horse and addressed him very kindly.

Why did Iskender never come to church nowadays? why had he not been to
visit the ladies? why had he refused their offer of employment in the
house, which would probably have led to better things, perhaps to his
appointment as assistant master in one of the Mission schools? Even
now it was not too late to reconsider; they, on their side, were quite
willing to forget bygones. It had grieved them much to hear that
Iskender was drifting into bad company, and entering on a vicious
course of life; still more to learn that he showed an inclination to
forget the enlightened religious teaching which he had received in
childhood.

His words moved Iskender more than he desired to show, arousing in his
mind a thousand happy memories, reproachful now. He replied in Arabic
with the sullenness that masks emotion:

"I am a son of the Arabs, and I return to my own kind. Allah knows I
am nothing to be considered."

"What do you mean?" asked the missionary in a colder tone.

"Your Honour and the ladies could not make of me an Englishman. It is
for that you cast me off."

"We tried to make of you a Christian man." The missionary's face grew