Christian strangers.

Returning home, he told Nesibeh of his determination to start next
morning early for the Holy City. His bride was glad, for she had feared
much from his visit to the missionaries, and longed to remove him far
from their hellish wiles.

CHAPTER XXXII

Two years later, when Allah had given him a male child by Nesibeh,
Iskender visited his wife's father in the spring-time. He arrived on
foot leading the donkey, on which his wife sat with the baby in her
arms. An excited group stood out beneath the ilex-tree. They shouted
"Praise to Allah!" The mother of Iskender ran and seized the baby, and
rocking it in her arms, poured forth her hoard of tidings. Asad ebn
Costantin was married--had Iskender heard?--to a great lady of the
English, a virgin strictly guarded, the only child of rich and honoured
parents. Ah, the cunning devil! The people there at the Mission were
furious, he might believe; the more so that Asad was bringing his bride
to visit them as an equal--he, the son of Costantin, who fetched the
water! Ah, they were well repaid for their treatment of Iskender; and
they knew it!

But Mitri broke in, crying:

"Hast thou brought the picture?"

"Be sure I have!" replied Iskender cheerfully. Opening one of the
saddlebags he produced it, wrapped in a linen cloth, which he removed.
A howl of delight went up from all the company.

"Ma sh' Allah! It is Mar Jiryis himself!" "May we be helped through
him!" "Now our church will wear a richer and more modish look!"
exclaimed one and another.

It was indeed the crowning triumph of his art, which Iskender brought
as an offering to the little church of St. George beneath the oak-tree,
which he regarded as the fountain of Heaven's favours towards him. For
the form and posture of the saint he had gone to one of those grand
English newspapers which the Emir had given to him years ago. He had
taken thence the likeness of a mounted officer slashing downward with
his sabre, while his charger, dragged back on its haunches, pawed the
air convulsively. A uniform of gold embellished this equestrian
figure, which was framed in coils of Dragon, green and black; while the
Dragon, in its turn, was framed in a fine decorative gush of blood,
pure scarlet, which swirled and eddied round the combatants, springing
visibly from the monster's many wounds.

"It is a feast for the eyes!" cried Mitri, when he had gazed his fill.
There were tears on his