“It is no uncommon thing for boys to be stolen and sold in this way.  A rich pacha will pay almost anything.  The fate of such slaves is not generally a happy one.”  Isaacs paused a moment, and drew in two or three long breaths of smoke.  “Do you see that bright star in the south?” he said, pointing with his long jewel-set mouthpiece.

“Yes.  It must be Sirius.”

“That is my star.  Do you believe in the agency of the stars in human affairs?  Of course you do not; you are a European:  how should you?  But to proceed.  The stars, or the fates or Kali, or whatever you like to term your kismet, your portion of good and evil, allotted me a somewhat happier existence than generally falls to the share of young slaves in Roum.  I was bought by an old man of great wealth and of still greater learning, who was so taken with my proficiency in Arabic and in writing that he resolved to make of me a pupil instead of a servant to carry his coffee and pipe, or a slave to bear the heavier burden of his vices.  Nothing better could have happened to me.  I was installed in his house and treated with exemplary kindness, though he kept me rigorously at work with my books.  I need not tell you that with such a master I made fair progress, and that at the age of twenty-one I was, for a Turk, a young man of remarkably good education.  Then my master died suddenly, and I was thrown into great distress.  I was of course nothing but a slave, and liable to be sold at any time.  I escaped.  Active and enduring, though never possessing any vast muscular strength, I bore with ease the hardships of a long journey on foot with little food and scant lodging.  Falling in with a band of pilgrims, I recognised the wisdom of joining them on their march to Mecca.  I was, of course, a sound Mohammedan, as I am to this day, and my knowledge of the Koran soon gained me some reputation in the caravan.  I was considered a creditable addition, and altogether an eligible pilgrim.  My exceptional physique protected me from the disease and exhaustion of which not a few of our number died by the wayside, and the other pilgrims, in consideration of my youth and piety, gave me willingly the few handfuls of rice and dates that I needed to support life and strength.

“You have read about Mecca; and your hadji barber, who of course has been there, has doubtless related his experiences to you scores of times in the plains, as he does everywhere.  As you may imagine, I had no intention of returning towards Roum with my companions.  When I had fulfilled all the observances required, I made my way to Yeddah and shipped on board an Arabian craft, touching at Mocha, and bearing coffee to Bombay.  I had to work my passage, and as I had no experience of the sea, save in the caiques of the Golden Horn, you will readily conceive that the captain of the vessel had plenty of fault to find.  But my agility and quick comprehension stood me in good stead, and in a few days I had learned