Abra, the magician, tired out by his day's exertions, had settled himself down on a tattered piece of rug outside the tent; there he had fallen peacefully asleep, his venerable head thrown back, his lean shanks hanging over the edge of the platform and snoring the snore of the just. Thus he had failed to spy the two hooded, dainty figures, who had all along kept within the shadows. Suddenly through his pleasant slumbers he heard an eagerly whispered-- "Hey! friend!" Whilst the toe of his shoe was violently tagged at from below. "Friend, wake!" "They won't listen!" added an impatient, half-tearful voice. But already Abra was on his feet. Giving his humble henchman a violent kick to wake him up, he began to mutter mechanically, even before he was fully conscious-- "What ho, my masters! consult the world-famous necromancer----" Bang! bang! bang! on the big drum came automatically from his henchman, who was only half awake. "No! no! no!" entreated Ursula, "I prithee not so much noise! We wish to consult the soothsayer . . . we've brought some money . . . three gold pieces . . . is that enough? . . . But in the name of Our Lady I beg of thee not to make so much noise." Timidly she held up a silken purse towards the astonished wizard. Three gold pieces!--why, 'twas a fortune, the like of which the worthy Abra had never beheld in one sum in his life. To ask him not to make a noise was to demand the impossible. With one hand he pushed his henchman vigorously to one side. The latter dropped his cymbals, which rattled off the platform with an ear-splitting crash. All the while Abra in stentorian tones, and holding back the folds of the tent, was shouting at the top of his voice-- "This way, ladies! for the great soothsayer Mirrab, the sale of love-philters and charms, and of the true elixir of life." "The die is cast, Margaret mine," said Ursula, trying vainly to steady her voice, which was trembling, and her knees which were shaking beneath her. "Art coming?--Oh! I--I--feel a little nervous," she admitted in spite of herself, "and you--oh! how your hand trembles. . . ." She was frankly terrified now. The noise was so awful, and though she did not dare look to the right or left of her she was conscious that she and her friend were no longer alone on the open place. She could hear the murmur of voices, the sound of idle folk gathering in every direction. Her instinct suggested immediate flight, and the abandonment of this mad adventure while there was yet time, but her pride urged her to proceed. She gripped Margaret's wrist with a resolute hand and made a quick rush for the steps. Alas! she was just two seconds too late. The next instant she felt her waist seized firmly from behind, whilst a merry voice shouted-- "Cornered at last!"