“Wretched man,” cried the Chief angrily, “you see how impossible it is to deceive me. You are not worthy that I should stain my good dagger with your blood, but to-morrow morning I will have you bound to the tail of my horse and will go a-hunting with you, till the sun sets behind the hills of Sulieika.” Mustapha’s heart sank. “It is my father’s curse that has driven me to this shameful death,” he cried; “alas, sweet sister, and Zoraida, how can I ever hope to rescue you now.” “This pretence is useless,” said one of the brigands, “see, the Chief bites his lips and feels for his dagger; if you wish to live another night you had best come with me quickly.” And binding Mustapha’s hands behind his back he was about to lead him from the tent, when three other brigands entered, with a prisoner in their midst. “Here, as you commanded us, we bring you the Pasha of Sulieika,” said one of them, leading their prisoner before the Chief. Mustapha glanced at the prisoner and could not but own that there was a great resemblance between himself and the Pasha, only the other man was darker in complexion and wore a dark beard. The Chief was much surprised to see a second prisoner: “Which of you really is the man I seek?” he asked. “If you seek the Pasha of Sulieika,” the prisoner answered proudly, “I am he.” The Chief regarded him with a stern and terrible look and then made signs that he was to be led away. This being done, he cut the cords that bound Mustapha with his dagger and invited him to take a seat by his side. “I ask your pardon for the mistake that has occurred,” he said, “but it was a strange interposition of Providence that placed you in the hands of my companions at the moment they were lying in wait for that vile wretch you have just seen.” Mustapha asked for one favour only as compensation, namely, that he might be allowed to proceed on his way without further delay, and on the Chief questioning him as to the reason of his great haste he told him all. The Chief then persuaded him to remain with him one night at least, telling him that both he and his horse needed rest, and promised to show him the next morning a short way by which he would be able to reach Balsora in a day and a half. Mustapha agreed to this and after being most hospitably entertained slept soundly all night long in the robber’s tent. When he awoke he found himself alone in the tent, but through the hangings over the doorway he could hear voices, which seemed to belong to the Robber Chief and the little dark dwarf. He listened attentively, and to his horror heard the little man advising the Chief to murder him, as if he were allowed to go free he might betray the whole troop.