must go after her at all risks,--he must find out her place of
abode,--her rank,--her title,--her name! ... All at once he was
roughly seized by a dozen or more of hands,--loud, angry voices
shouted on all sides.. "A traitor! ... a traitor!" ... "An
infidel!"

"A spy!" "A malcontent!"

"Into the river with him!"

"He refuses worship!" "He denies the gods!"

"Bear him to the Tribunal!".. And in a trice of time, he was
completely surrounded and hemmed in by an exasperated,
gesticulating crowd, whose ominous looks and indignant mutterings
were plainly significant of prompt hostility. With a few agile
movements he succeeded in wrenching himself free from the grasp of
his assailants, and standing among them like a stag at bay he
cried:

"What have I done? How have I offended? Speak! Or is it the
fashion of Al-Kyris to condemn a man unheard?"

No one answered this appeal,--the very directness of it seemed to
increase the irritation of the mob, that pressing closer and
closer, began to jostle and hustle him in a threatening manner
that boded ill for his safety,--he was again taken prisoner, and
struggling in the grasp of his captors, he was preparing to fight
for his life as best he could, against the general fury, when the
sound of musical strings, swept carelessly upwards in the