"America--Chicago," with the full belief that the _taleb_ must have
heard of the bustling city upon Lake Michigan.

And he is right, too, for the old Moor frowns.

"Chicago is accursed. I hate it, because it shelters an enemy to one I
revere, one who saved my only child from death, when she lay with the
fever at Alexandria. Your name, monsieur, and then your ailment, for I
take it your case is urgent to bring you here under such risk."

"My name I have never been ashamed of. It is John Alexander Craig. My
disease is one of the heart, and I believe--"

The appearance of the old Moor is such that John comes to a sudden
stop--Ben Taleb's eyes are dilated--he stares at the young man in a
fierce way, and his whole body appears to swell with rising emotions.

"Stop!" he thunders, and claps his hands in an excited way.

John, remembering his former experience, draws himself up in readiness
for defense, nor is he surprised to see several slaves enter the room at
the bidding of their master.

"This is the height of infamy, you who bear that hated name dare invade
the home of Ben Taleb! I read your secret; you are not sick."

"No, no; I--"

"You come with another motive; you seek one who has long been lost, one
who has suffered for years, unjustly, because of a Craig. May Allah's