On making further enquiries as to their appearance he could no longer doubt they were the two unfortunate girls he was in search of. He also heard that the man who had bought them was called Thiuli-Kos and lived forty miles away from Balsora; he was an elderly man who had amassed a large fortune, and had retired from public affairs and settled down to enjoy his possessions in peace and quietness. At first Mustapha thought he would re-mount and try and overtake Thiuli-Kos, but then he reflected that he could do little, for he was but a single man against the large retinue Thiuli-Kos would no doubt have with him, and that it would be impossible to wrest his prey from him; he therefore thought of another plan. His resemblance to the Pasha of Sulieika, which well-nigh proved fatal to him, might stand him in good stead now, and he determined to enter Thiuli-Kos’ house in that name in order to attempt the rescue of the two girls. He therefore engaged servants and horses and here Orbasan’s gift of money assisted him. Having purchased magnificent clothing for himself and his servants, he set out for Thiuli-Kos’ palace. He reached it in five days and found it was built on a lovely plain and was so surrounded by high walls that few of the buildings could be seen from without. He took the precaution to dye his hair and beard a darker tint, and coloured his face with the juice of a certain plant he knew of, so that no one could have supposed he was any other than the real Pasha; then he sent one of his servants to Thiuli’s palace to ask for a night’s lodging. The servant returned accompanied by four beautifully dressed slaves, who led Mustapha’s horse into the courtyard. They assisted him to alight and led him up a flight of marble steps to Thiuli. Thiuli was a jolly old fellow and received Mustapha kindly, and ordered the best dishes his cook could prepare to be set before him. After dinner Mustapha turned the conversation to slaves, and the old man told him of the two beauties he had just lately bought, praising their appearance loudly, but regretting the fact that they appeared to be so sad, so that Mustapha retired to bed in high hopes of being soon able to effect a rescue. He had been asleep about an hour when he was awakened by the light of a lamp streaming down upon his eyes. Raising himself on his elbow he at first believed himself to be still sleeping and dreaming, for before him stood the same swarthy little dwarf he had seen in Orbasan’s tent. He carried a lamp in his hand, and a horrid grin distended his mouth from ear to ear. “What do you want?” asked Mustapha angrily, as soon as he had convinced himself he was awake. [Illustration: _FATIMA’S RESCUE_ _“He made for the door, screaming lustily for help”_ (_p. 43_)]