Five hundred dark, sinister men were gathered in knots about the square.  They talked in subdued tones and looked from fiery eyes that belied their outward calm.

Hollingsworth Chase, attended by Selim, came down from his mountain retreat.  He heard the sibilant hiss of the scorned Persians as he passed among them on the outskirts of the crowd; he observed the threatening attitude of the men who waited and watched; he saw the white, ugly face of Von Blitz quivering with triumph; he felt the breath of disaster upon his cheek.  And yet he walked among them without fear, his head erect, his eyes defiant.  He knew that a crisis had come, but he smiled as he walked up to meet it, with a confidence that was sublime.

The market-place was a large open tract in the extreme west end of the town, some distance removed from the business street and the pier.  On two sides were the tents of the fruit peddlers and the vegetable hucksters, negroes who came in from the country with their produce.  The other sides were taken up by the fabric and gewgaw venders, while in the centre stood the platforms from which the auctioneers offered treasures from the Occident.  Through a break in the foothills, the chateau was plainly discernible, the sea being obscured from view by the dense forest that crowned the cliffs.

Chase made his way boldly to the nearest platform, exchanging bows with the surprised Von Blitz and the saturnine Rasula, who stood quite near.  The men of Japat slowly drew close in as he mounted the platform, The gleaming eyes that shone in the light of the torches did not create any visible sign of uneasiness in the American, even though down in his heart he trembled.  He knew the double chance he was to take.  From where he stood looking out over those bronze faces, he could pick out the scowling husbands who hated him because their wives hated them.  He could see Ben Ali, the master of two beauties from Teheran and the handsome dancing girl from Cairo; there was Amriph, who basked erstwhile in the sunshine of a bargain from Damascus and a seraph from Bagdad, but who now groped about in the blackness of their contempt; and others, all of whom felt in their bitter hearts that their misery was due to the prowess of this gallant figure.

Afar off stood the group of women who had inspired this hatred and distrust.  Behind them, despised and uncountenanced by the Oriental elect, were crowded the native women, who, down in their hearts, loathed the usurpers.  It was Chase’s hope that the husbands of these simple women would ultimately stand at his side in the fight for supremacy—­and they were vastly in the majority.  If he could convince these men that his dealings with them were honest, Von Blitz could “go hang.”

He faced the crowd, knowing that all there were against him.  “Von Blitz!” he called suddenly.  The German started and stepped back involuntarily, as if he had been reprimanded.