any other wife I had. She lived so long, in fact, that when we left
Cordova we both thought it well that she should pass as my mother. She was
one of the few wives to whom I told my story. It did not shock her, for
she believed her father to be a miracle-worker, and she had faith in many
strange things. Her great desire was to live as long as I should, and
I think she believed that this might happen. She died at the age of one
hundred and fifteen, and was lively and animated to the very last.
My first American wife was a fine woman, too. She was a French creole, and
died fifteen years ago. We had no children."

[Illustration: "'WHEN WE LEFT CORDOVA.'"]

"It strikes me," I said suddenly, "that you must understand a great many
languages--you speak so much of living with people of different nations."

"It would be impossible," he answered, "unless I were void of ordinary
intelligence, to live as long as I have, and not become a general
linguist. Of course I had to learn the languages of the countries
I visited, and as I was always a student, it delighted me to do so. In
fact, I not only studied, but I wrote. When the Alexandrian library was
destroyed, fourteen of my books were burned. When I was in Italy with my
first American wife, I visited the museum at Naples, and in the room
where the experts were unrolling the papyri found in Pompeii, I looked
over the shoulder of one of them, and, to my amazement, found that one of
the rolls was an account-book of my own. I had been a broker in Pompeii,
and these were the records of moneys I had loaned, on interest, to various
merchants and tradespeople. I was always fond of dealing in money, and at
present I am a broker in Wall street. During the first crusades I was a
banker in Genoa, and lent large sums to the noble knights who were setting
forth for Jerusalem."