"There is truth in what you say," rejoined Miles, after a few minutes' thought. "I will take your advice and submit and wait, but only till the opportunity to escape offers. I would not murder the man even if I had the chance." "Your words remind me of de good Gordon. He was not vengeful. He loved God," said the runner, in a low and very different tone. "But," he added, "Gordon was a white man. He did not--could not--understand de feelings of de black chief." As the last remark opened up ground which Miles was not prepared to traverse, he made no rejoinder but asked the runner what the Mahdi required of him in his new capacity. "He require you to learn de city, so as you know how to run when you is told--an' I is to teach you, so you come wid me," said the runner, rising. "But am I to go in this costume, or rather in this half-naked state?" asked Miles, rising and spreading out his hands as he looked down at his unclothed chest and lower limbs. "You not cause for be ashamed," replied the runner, with a nod. This was true, for the hard travelling which Miles had recently endured, and the heavy burdens which he had borne, had developed his muscles to such an extent that his frame was almost equal to that of the negro, and a fit subject for the sculptor's chisel. "Your white skin will p'r'aps blister at first," continued the runner, "but your master will be glad for dat. Here is a t'ing, however, will save you shoulders. Now, you makes fuss-rate runner." He took the little green tippet off his own shoulders and fastened it on those of his successor. "Come now," he added, "let us see how you can run." They passed out into the street together, and then poor Miles felt the full sense of his degradation, when he saw some of the passers-by stop to gaze with looks of hatred or contempt or amusement at the "Christian captive." But he had not much leisure to think or feel, for the negro ran him down one street and up another at a pace which would soon have exhausted him if, besides being a naturally good runner, he had not recently been forced to undergo such severe training. During the run his guide pointed out and named most of the chief places, buildings, and mosques. "You will do," said the negro, pausing at length and turning towards his companion with a look of approval, "You a'most so good as myself!" With this compliment he proceeded to instruct the new runner in his duties, and at night Miles found himself again in his prison, ready to do full justice to his bowl of rice-compost, and to enjoy his blanket-less mat bed--if a man can be said to enjoy anything about which he is profoundly unconscious during the time of its enjoyment!