“And I am sixty-eight. Wait but a few more years and all my wealth will be thine; then thou canst journey whither thou pleasest. But I have a mission. When I go down to the grave of my fathers, my soul will have seen the light of great Mahdi’s face.” It is believed by devout followers of Mahomet that before the end of the world there shall arise a mahdi--literally, a director who shall be of the family of Mahomet, whose name should be Mahomet Achmet, and who should fill the world with righteousness. For six hundred years the Mohammedans have been expecting their messiah to appear. “As thou wilt, uncle, but----” Ibrahim’s speech was cut short abruptly by the hurried salaam of Effendi, the Sherif el Habib’s confidential eunuch and secretary. “What is it, Effendi?” “Your excellency! I know not, but a young and beautiful girl hath fainted, and with her----” “Who is she?” asked Ibrahim. “Lead me to her!” “Nay, nephew, it is not fit that thou----” “Go along, uncle; when I am your age I shall do as you do. Go along, I care not for all the girls of Egypt.” Sherif el Habib had not heard all the boy’s speech, for he had hurried away with Effendi. The eunuch led him across the sands to the place where Madcap Max had fallen, and over him the girl, Girzilla. Sherif el Habib looked at the youthful couple, and seemed strangely disturbed. He stooped and placed his hand over their hearts, and found that both were alive. “It is well,” he said, in a half-audible voice. Then, turning to Effendi, he motioned him to follow. Going to his camel, Sherif el Habib took from the pack a small bottle. On the side of the vial were some hieroglyphics which, if translated into good United States language, would signify that the contents were known to be that strange result of modern research, chloroform. Giving the bottle to Effendi, Sherif el Habib said: “It is my will that these people should go with us in a sleep as of death; do thou with this as is usual.” Effendi took the vial, and pouring some of the contents on two pieces of linen, he returned to the Arab girl and Max and placed the linen over their mouths. When the fumes of the chloroform had done their work effectually he called some of the attendants, and ordered them to place Max and Girzilla on the backs of camels. “It is done,” he said to Sherif el Habib, making a low salaam. “It is well,” was the chief’s answer. Effendi moved away, leaving his master and Ibrahim alone. “What new fancy has taken possession of you, uncle?” “The glory of the great Mahomet surrounds me,” was the reply. “If I were not the most loving of nephews,” said the youth, “I should declare that you were mad.”