"You shall have it, my boy. Excuse me for calling you so again, but
this time it is done to show you my love for your childlike heart.
Come with me to the hall. You shall select the handsomest dress,
regardless of the cost."

He led him to the hall in which he kept the magnificent goods from
which the ladies in the harems of the Turks of rank were accustomed
to select their festal dresses, and spread the beautiful goods out
before Mohammed. The boy's eyes sparkled with pleasure as he beheld
this costly array. He selected a magnificent piece of purple satin
embroidered with silver, and an Indian veil of the finest make,
adorned with fringe of real gold. It was a suit that would have
delighted the daughters of the sultan at Stamboul, and it did not
occur to Mohammed that it was worth at least ten times as much as he
had to give for it. Mr. Lion took the four ducats with a smile, and
handed him the beautiful goods wrapped in gilt-edged paper.
Mohammed, proud of his bargain, took the package, and ran in
breathless haste to his mother.

"Here, mother, I bring you something you will like!" he cried.

"Yourself?" asked Khadra, with a gentle smile. "I need nothing
else."

"Yes, Mother Khadra, you do need something else. You need a dress
and a veil, such as the other ladies of rank wear. Do not be
alarmed, mother, it is honestly acquired. There, take it, and
rejoice!" He spread the costly goods out before her, expecting her
to cry out with delight. But she only became sad; on her pale cheeks
glowed the roses which Death bestows on those whom he is about to