burn as though fire flowed in her veins. But it may pass away,
nephew. She may recover; she is still weak from her former illness;
you recollect the severe fever she had? But she will recover, and
for this purpose Mr. Lion sent her the strengthening wine; it will
do her good, and she will get better."

"Yes, she will get better," said the boy. "It is impossible she
should die, for I should then be entirely alone in the world."

"Entirely alone?" asked the old man, regarding him reproachfully.
"As long as Toussoun Aga lives, his nephew, Mohammed Ali, is not
entirely alone."

Mohammed held out his hand. "Thanks, uncle." He nodded to the old
man, turned away, and sprang off over the rocks with such rapid
bounds that old Toussoun looked after him in amazement.

"He leaps like a gazelle. Light is his step, and splendid his
figure. How long will he still bless his mother's sight? how long
shall my old eyes be gladdened by this young gazelle, this young
eagle?"

The old man bowed his head upon his breast, and two tears trickled
slowly down his cheeks.




CHAPTER IV