wait on his master with soft words."

"He knows more than that!" exclaimed the boy Osman Bey, indignantly.
"He knows how to scour across the desert on his steed without saddle
or bridle, and loves to flourish the cimeter and lay the heads of
men and animals at his feet with a single blow."

The slave-dealer regards him with favorable glances. That is what he
needs. The great Mameluke prince Mourad needs many servants and
warriors, and he gave the dealer authority to purchase men for him,
young, strong, and healthy men. The ranks of his Mamelukes need
recruiting. He will make a fine Mameluke, this slender young man
with the keen, glittering eyes.

"What will you have for the boy?"

The captain shrugged his shoulders. "He is really beyond all price;
for, as I tell you, he is a splendid servant, and, as he tells you
himself, he is a fine horseman, and knows how to wield the cimeter.
He is priceless, and I hardly think we shall come to terms."

They now began to bargain for this human merchandise. They made a
great deal of noise, quarrelled, and shook their fists in each
other's faces, while young Osman Bey stood at their side, his arms
folded on his breast, calmly looking on and smiling at the uproar
created on his account. At last they came to terms. The dealer
received his living goods, young Osman Bey, and paid the captain the
price agreed upon.

If young Mohammed Ali could see this: if his dark brown eye could