Loud cries of grief again resounded without. Masa, shook with terror. "I cannot allow my father to die, I cannot! I yield, I am ready; give me the money, that I may bring it to these people." "I will give it to you, and you shall rescue your father. And now you are mine; not my slave, but my queen. Go up into my harem while I take the money out to these people." "No, not so," she cried, entreatingly. "Leave me my freedom for this one day only; let me remain this one day with my father, and do not let him have a suspicion of the price I have paid for his liberty." "Then let it be so," said he, regarding her fixedly. "You swear, by the memory of your mother, that you will voluntarily return to my harem early to-morrow morning." "I swear, by the memory of my mother, that I will return here early to-morrow morning." "You will come to the back-gate of my garden, where my servants will await you to conduct you to me. And now I am going after the money. Go into the adjoining room, to the tachorbadji." He opened the door, and beckoned to the governor. "Await me here a moment; I am going after the money with which to release the prisoners." He turned to her once more: "You understand, until early to-morrow morning. You have sworn by all you hold sacred--by Allah and by your mother." "Yes, I have so sworn," said she, in a low voice. "You will keep your word, and henceforth you will belong to me; for you are now mine: remember this. You are mine wherever you go, my property, my slave. This evening, when the night sinks down, and when your father has retired to rest, then you will come to my garden, where I shall await you with my eunuchs." "I shall come, master. Am I not your slave, and have you not paid for me?" He nodded to her, and then turned and left the room. Masa drew her veil closer about her face, that none might see that it was wet with her tears. CHAPTER VI THE FLIGHT. The court-yard without now presents a busy appearance. The fishermen of Praousta, becoming impatient and anxious, had hurried in a body up the stairway in the rock. When the signal for the morning prayer was sounded from the minarets they knew that nothing was to be hoped for from the efforts of the sheik's daughter, and they agreed among themselves that they would go up in a body and petition for mercy. They hastily agreed upon what they should say to the governor, and determined, of course, in their generosity of heart, that they would yield, and promise the governor to pay the double tax if he would only patiently wait a little while. This was their resolve. The sheik and the ulemas must be rescued, cost what it might. With this firm resolve they hastened up the stairway, entered the outer court- yard of the palace, and loudly demanded to be conducted to the governor. But their clamors were in vain. At the gate of the palace stood the eight soldiers of the body-guard, with drawn swords, prepared to defend the entrance.