design on the part of Mohand ou Mohand, by which Mrs. Godwin failing of her agreement, he might possess himself of Moll; and this falling in with Dawson’s wishes, we set out to return to Alger forthwith.  But getting to Alger half-dead with the fatigue of trudging all that distance in the full heat of the day, we learnt to our chagrin that no ship would be sailing to Elche for a fortnight at the least, and all the money we had would not tempt any captain to carry us there; so here were we cast down again beyond everything for miserable, gloomy apprehensions.

After spending another day in fruitless endeavour to obtain a passage, nothing would satisfy Dawson’s painful, restless spirit but we must return to Thadviir; so thither we went once more to linger about the palace of Ali Oukadi, in the poor hope that we might see Moll come out to take the air.

One day as we were standing in the shade of the garden wall, sick and weary with dejection and disappointment, Dawson, of a sudden, starts me from my lethargy by clutching my arm and raising his finger to bid me listen and be silent.  Then straining my ear, I caught the distant sound of female voices, but I could distinguish not one from another, though by Dawson’s joyous, eager look I perceived he recognised Moll’s voice amongst them.  They came nearer and nearer, seeking, as I think, the shade of those palm trees which sheltered us.  And presently, quite close to us, as if but on the other side of the wall, one struck a lute and began to sing a Moorish song; when she had concluded her melancholy air a voice, as if saddened by the melody, sighed: 

“Ah me! ah me!”

There was no misdoubting that sweet voice:  ’twas Moll’s.

Then very softly Dawson begins to whistle her old favourite ditty “Hearts will break.”  Scarce had he finished the refrain when Moll within took it up in a faint trembling voice, but only a bar, to let us know we were heard; then she fell a-laughing at her maids, who were whispering in alarm, to disguise her purpose; and so they left that part, as we knew by their voices dying away in the distance.

“She’ll come again,” whispers Dawson, feverishly.

And he was in the right; for, after we had stood there best part of an hour, we hear Moll again gently humming “Hearts will break,” but so low, for fear of being heard by others, that only we who strained so hard to catch a sound could be aware of it.

“Moll, my love!” whispers Dawson, as she comes to an end.

“Dear father!” answers she, as low.

“We are here—­Kit and I. Be comforted, sweet chuck,—­you shall be free ere long.”

“Shall I climb the wall?” asks she.

“No, no,—­for God’s sake, refrain!” says I, seeing that Jack was half minded to bid her come to him.  “You will undo all—­have patience.”

At this moment other voices came to us from within, calling Lala Mollah; and presently the quick witch answers them from a distance, with a laugh, as if she had been playing at catch-who-can.