henceforth you are sacred for him and his men. His tribe take you under their protection."

"Praise be to God the merciful, the long-suffering!" exclaimed I.

When Zobeïr heard me speak, and understood that I was a Mussulman, he began to speak eagerly to Raymonde.

"Zobeïr says," she continued, "that he is delighted to find that you follow the law of Mahomet. His design was to surround us and massacre the whole party. But now there is no ill-will between us and him, because Zobeïr remembers that he has eaten my father's salt."

"It is well," I replied. "But why did these Arabs attack us in this way?"

"They are, as I have already told you, Bedouins—that is to say, children of the desert, nomads living by plunder and pillage."

I immediataly felt considerable sympathy for these Bedouin Arabs, inasmuch as they are nomads, and make predatory incursions like ourselves. I stretched out my hand to their chief, who touched it with his own, which he subsequently raised to his lips; it is their mode of saluta

tion.

"Explain to him," said I to Raymonde, "that we too are nomads, and that in our country also we make inroads against the settled tribes, who are vile dogs. Tell him that I have full faith in his sincerity, and that I entrust myself to him, because nomads may kill, but they never deceive each other."

Thereupon the Arabs led us to the structure which I had

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taken for a strong castle, and which was in reality the mosque of the Lion of God, the son of Abu Talib (blessings be on his head!). This mosque was formerly in the middle of the town, but now Bassorah has dwindled so much that it is two miles from the city wall. Zobeïr made us encamp at the foot of the mosque, as he dared not enter the town, where he was keenly pursued on account of his acts of brigandage. Our horses were shackled, and turned out to

graze.

The next morning we started on our way, accompanied by Zobeïr and his men. They shortened our route for us by taking us through the Valley of Lions, which is totally deserted, and where the Bedouins alone venture to run the risk of passing. These Bedouins are a very intrepid race; they wear no cuirass, nor any defensive armour; for they maintain that nobody can die until his time has come; and when they curse their children they use the expression, "Be accursed, like the Frank who puts on armour through fear of death." It is a misfortune that the greater part of them are Shiite heretics, and refuse to utter the name of the ten Imaums in prayer.

Passing through the Valley of Lions, in two days we arrived at Koufah, which is a noble and celebrated city. Zobeïr and his men left us within sight of the town, and rapidly disappeared amongst the reeds which line the Euphrates at this part of its course. In the distance I saw a great flame, like a conflagration; so I inmediately directed my steps in that direction, thinking that some house was on fire, and that I might help to put it out, or