attended by his staff, came out, and were met by Petrobey. Yanni, as aide-de-camp, was in attendance on his father, and he had the pleasure of meeting his old host again. Mehemet followed Petrobey to his quarters, Yanni looking at him as a cat in the act to spring looks at a bird. He was a short-legged, stout man, appearing tall when he was sitting, but when he stood, heavy and badly proportioned. He had grown a little thinner, or so thought Yanni, and the skin hung bagging below his eyes, though he was still hardly more than thirty. He looked Yanni over from head to foot without speaking, adjusted his green turban, and then, shrugging his shoulders slightly, took a seat and turned to Petrobey. "I have been sent to ask the terms on which you will grant a capitulation," he said; "please consider and name them." "I will do so," replied Petrobey, "and let you have them by midnight." Mehemet glanced at his watch. "Thank you; we shall expect them then." He rose from his seat and again looked at Yanni, who was standing by the door. The two presented a very striking contrast--the one pale, flabby, clay-colored, slow-moving; the other, though there were not ten years between them, fresh, brown, and alert. Mehemet continued looking at him for a moment below his drooping eyelids without speaking, and then the corners of his sensual mouth straightened themselves into a smile. He held out his hand to the boy. "So we meet again, my guest," he said; "your leave-taking was somewhat abrupt. Will you shake hands?" Yanni bristled like a collie dog, and looked sideways at him without speaking, but kept his hands stiff to his side. "You vanished unexpectedly, just when I hoped to begin to know you better," continued Mehemet. But Petrobey interfered sternly. "You are not here, sir, to confer insults," he said. Mehemet turned round slowly towards him with a face of sallow death. "Surely my teeth are drawn, as far as the boy is concerned," he said; "but let me know one thing," he continued, "for I have a heavy wager about it. Did you bribe the porter, or did you get through the roof?" "Through the roof," said Yanni, as stiff as a poker. "I have lost. I said you bribed the porter. He shall come out of prison to-night and have poultices, for he was much beaten. Good-evening, gentlemen." Yanni turned to Petrobey with blazing eyes. "Cannot I kick him now?" he whispered. "How can I give you permission?" said Petrobey. Yanni looked at him a moment and then his lips parted in a smile, and he went out of the tent. Mehemet was a few yards down the path, going towards the gate of the camp where his staff was waiting, and in three strides Yanni caught up with him.