little man walking along with a pack on his back. The peculiar hopping
motion of his gait proclaimed him at once to be Abraham, the little Jew.

"The very man!" thought Yusuf. "If any one between Syria and Yemen can
ferret out a mystery, it is Abraham the peddler. If I can once set him
in earnest upon the track, deliverance may be speedy for poor Nathan."

The peddler was walking very rapidly, but Yusuf strode after him, now
losing sight of him in the crowd, now catching a glimpse of his little
bobbing figure, until, out of breath, he finally reached him and caught
his arm.

The Jew started in surprise. "Defend us, friend!" he exclaimed. "You
come on a man like the poison-wind, as quickly if not as deadly. So you
are still in Mecca! What are you doing now?"

He was as inquisitive as ever, but Yusuf did not resent the trait in him
now.

"I am on important business just at present, my friend," he said, in his
kindliest tone, "on business in which I am sure Abraham the Jew can help
me, better than any other man in Mecca."

"Ha!" exclaimed the peddler, "and what may that be?"

"Can you keep a still tongue when it is necessary, Jew?"

The peddler placed his fingers on his lips, rolled up his eyes, and
nodded assent.