Such was the new plan which Ben Aboo straightway conceived at hearing the news of Habeebah, and in another moment he had propounded it to Katrina.  But when Naomi came into the patio, looking so soft, so timid, so tired, yet so beautiful, so unlike his own painted beauties, with the light of the dawn on her open face, with her clear eyes and the sweet mouth of a child, his evil passions had all they could do not to go back to his former scheme.

“So you wish to turn Muslima?” he said.

Naomi gave one dazed look around, and then cried in a voice of fear “No, no, no!”

Ben Aboo glanced at Habeebah, and Habeebah fell upon Naomi with protests and remonstrances.  “She said so,” Habeebah cried. “’I will turn Muslima,’ she said.  Yes, Sidi, she said so, I swear it!”

“Did you say so?” asked Ben Aboo.

“Yes,” said Naomi faintly.

“Then, by Allah, there can be no going back now,” said Ben Aboo; and he told her what was the penalty of apostasy.  It was death.  She must choose between them.

Naomi began to cry, and Ben Aboo to laugh at her and Habeebah to plead with her.  Still she saw one thing only.  “But what of my father?” she said.

“He shall be liberated,” said Ben Aboo.

“But shall I see him again?  Shall I go back to him?” said Naomi.

“The girl is a simpleton!” said Katrina.

“She is only a child,” said Ben Aboo, and with one glance more at her flower-like face, he committed her for three days to the apartments of his women.

These apartments consisted of a garden overgrown by straggling weeds, with a fountain of muddy water in the middle, an oblong room that was stifling from many perfumes, and certain smaller chambers.  The garden was inhabited by a gazelle, whose great startled eyes looked out through the long grass; and the oblong room by a number of women of varying ages, among whom were a matronly Mooress, called Tarha, in a scarlet head-dress, and with a string of great keys swung from shoulder to waist; a Circassian, called Hoolia, in a gorgeous rida of red silk and gold brocade; a Frenchwoman, called Josephine, with embroidered red slippers and black stockings; and a Jewess, called Sol, with a band of silk handkerchiefs tied round her forehead above her coal-black curls, with her fingers pricked out with henna and her eyes darkened with kohl.

Such were Ben Aboo’s wives and concubines and captives, whom he had not divorced according to his promise; and when Naomi came among them they did their duty by their master faithfully.  Being trapped themselves, they tried to entrap Naomi also.  They overwhelmed her with caresses, they went into ecstasies over her beauty, and caused the future which awaited her to shine before her eyes.  She would have a noble husband, magnificent dresses, a brilliant palace, and the world would be at her feet.  “And what’s the difference between Moosa and Mohammed?” said Sol; “look at me!” “Tut!”