That did not worry Max, for he was lithe and strong, but he was unaccustomed to foul play. When, therefore, he found that the man he had knocked down had risen and drawn a long, sharp dagger, with which he threatened his life, Max saw the unwisdom of his defense of the Arab girl. A muscular Arab in front of him, and another at his back brandishing a dagger, was enough to frighten an older man than Max. The Arabs jabbered away in a gibberish which Max did not understand. He struck at the man in front of him and made him stagger back, then with a quick movement, he stooped as he turned and caught the armed Arab round the legs, throwing him over his shoulder. He had not disabled his opponents, so he thought discretion better than valor. Using his legs as well as he could he ran away, only to be stopped by the girl he had--as he thought--rescued. She flung her arms round his neck, and talking rapidly--though in an unknown tongue to Max--held him fast until his pursuers were close upon him. With a wild shout they seized him, and would have speedily rendered him insensible had not a deliverer appeared. A man, bronzed and weather-beaten, though only in the prime of life, slowly and with deliberation took hold of one of the Arabs and flung him on one side. Presenting a revolver at the head of the other, he commanded him and the girl to go, and that quickly. “You have saved my life, sir,” said Max. “Have I? Is it worth saving?” “Perhaps not, but all the same I do not want to lose it.” “Take care of it, then, and don’t go wandering about Alexandria without weapons.” “What did they want with me?” “They would have captured you, and held you until ransomed.” “But----” “You are not rich, you would say. What does that matter? A ten-dollar gold piece would seem a fortune to them. The girl practices that scream on hundreds of unsuspecting foreigners.” “You speak of American money; are you from the States?” “From them? Yes; but I am a citizen of the world, a cosmopolitan.” “Might I ask your name?” inquired Max. “You might; but it does not signify. If I have saved your life, prove that your life is of some value.” The stranger left Max in one of the most frequented streets of that city where Cleopatra often rode, attracting the admiration of all to the savage beauty of that “Queen, with swarthy cheeks and bold, black eyes; Brow-bound with burning gold.” Max wondered whether the stranger spoke truly, and almost was inclined to doubt, for he was at that age when the laughing black eyes of a girl fascinate and lure, sometimes to ruin. Anyway, he was thankful for having been saved from the Arabs. He saw that night how much his father was respected, but he saw that which made his heart sad. His father was bowed down with grief. And no wonder. He had loved his wife with a passion as strong as his love of life. When they had left New York with Max, a boy of only eight summers of life, all had seemed roseate.