At last he wrings one promise from the Moor, to the effect that he will communicate with the lady in question, and stating the whole case, allow her to decide.

This is certainly fair enough, and Ben Taleb presumes to be a man who desires to do that which is right.  Hence he agrees, but will not let John know whether news can be sent to him at the hotel on the morrow, or a week later.  He must learn to practice the divine art of patience, and bide his time.

This, while a keen disappointment with regard to what he had expected and hoped for, is the best that can be done under the circumstances.

John is something of a philosopher.

When he has done his best, he is willing to trust the rest to fortune.

So he assumes a cheerfulness he is far from feeling, and assures Ben Taleb he will always be indebted to him for his kindness.  After this he begs for a piece of paper, and the sheik sends one of his slaves for it.  John writes a line upon it, a line that comes from his heart: 

“MY MOTHER:  I have searched half of the world over for you.  JOHN ALEXANDER CRAIG.”

If she ever reads that, the meeting will not long be delayed, he believes.

A short time is spent in the company of the sheik and his daughter, and as the young American admits that he is a doctor, the Moor shows new interest, asking various questions concerning some of the great events in the world of surgery that prove him to be a man far beyond his class, and one who keeps abreast of the times.

Finally, as the hour grows apace, John thinks it time for him to be going.

Where is his courier, the faithful Mustapha Cadi, all this while?

As he mentions him, the sheik claps his hands and the guide appears.  He enters into a brief conversation with Ben Taleb in the Moorish tongue.

John rightly guesses that the guide is relating the facts concerning their reaching the house, and that he fears they may be attacked, if they leave by the same way they entered.

The old Moor smiles, and after answering, turns to the young man from Chicago.

“There is another way of leaving this place, and one of my slaves will show you.  They shall not harm one who comes to see Ben Taleb, if it can be prevented.”

Then comes the ceremonious leave-taking, and John manages to get through this with credit.  He has undoubtedly made a deep impression on the Moorish beauty, who, catching the crumbs falling from her father’s table of knowledge, has aspirations above being the wife of a Moor, who may also have a harem.

At last they start off, with the slave in the lead, and after passing through several rooms, which John views with interest, arrive at a wall.

Acting under the advice of his guide, John has assumed the burnoose again, for Mustapha carried it on his arm when he appeared.

“We will pass through this door, and reach another street.  Are you ready, monsieur?”