Suddenly, a confused noise was heard out of doors. As it approached, the sounds grew louder; and at last the ear could distinguish the most energetic oaths in the Arab language, and the music which proceeds from fisticuffs and kicks when applied to divers parts of the human body. Djilali’s voice rose above the tumult, and his stick accompanied the melody of his voice. Finally, the door opened, and a group of men, singularly interlaced together, rolled into, rather than entered the room. When Djilali, by a succession of the most skilful movements, had succeeded in putting a little restraint and order into this tempestuous storm of arms and legs, the eye could manage to distinguish a group of five men, four of whom had quite enough to do to enforce on the fifth a little respect. The last-named worthy was of lofty stature and vigorously limbed. His garments torn to shreds, and his sorry face, attested participation in a recent struggle; but his hands, tied behind his back and fastened by a rope to his neck, were evidence that he had not been victorious. His companions held him fast with a degree of caution which showed that even in the state to which he was reduced, they were not quite sure he would not make his escape. Four ropes’-ends, which dangled from his wrists and his neck, were tightly grasped with exaggerated uneasiness and tenacity. Scarcely had the five new comers subsided into calmness, when an unanimous exclamation arose from the midst of the audience, “’Tis Ben Serraq! What has he been doing now?” M. Richard, the presiding magistrate, inquired somewhat severely: “What has the man done, that you should bring him bound in that cruel way?” “’Tis Ben Serraq!” was the answer he received from the quartette of voices. “Ah, Ben Serraq! A professional robber belonging to the Sefhha, is he not?” “The very same!” said the Coryphæus of the associated plaintiffs. “Yes, sure enough; ’tis I, Ben Serraq,” growled the prisoner, in a voice which reminded you of a wild beast roaring at night. “But I was informed that he had amended his mode of life, and that lately he has been living at peace with his neighbours?” “I have always lived at peace with my neighbours. I am a good Mussulman, fearing Allah and the law. I am calumniated.” “Hold your tongue,” said the court, “and do not speak till you are spoken to.” “It is true,” explained plaintiff number one, “that, for some time past, he has let us be quiet, and only committed distant robberies; but a few days since, he stole one of our bullocks.” “Sidi Bou Krari!” roared the savage. “How dare they slander a poor innocent creature like me in that way?” “But is the fact clearly proved?” the president inquired. “How did it occur?” “It is as plain as can be,” stated plaintiff number two. “There is not the least doubt about the matter.” “That’s what you get by serving the French!” muttered Ben Serraq, with the air of a Cato. “What ingratitude, gracious Allah, Lord of the universe!”