That was how Ben Aboo had become Governor of Tetuan, and the story of how Israel had become his informal Administrator of Affairs is no less curious.  At first Ben Aboo seemed likely to lose by his dubious transaction.  His new function was partly military and partly civil.  He was a valiant soldier—­the black blood of his slave-mother had counted for so much; but he was a bad administrator—­he could neither read nor write nor reckon figures.  In this dilemma his natural colleague would have been his Khaleefa, his deputy, Ali bin Jillool, but because this man had been the deputy of his predecessor also, he could not trust him.  He had two other immediate subordinates, his Commander of Artillery and his Commander of Infantry, but neither of them could spell the letters of his name.  Then there was his Taleb the Adel, his scribe the notary, Hosain ben Hashem, styled Haj, because he had made the pilgrimage to Mecca, but he was also the Imam, or head of the Mosque, and the wily Ben Aboo foresaw the danger of some day coming into collision with the religious sentiment of his people.  Finally, there was the Kadi, Mohammed ben Arby, but the judge was an official outside his jurisdiction, and he wanted a man who should be under his hand.  That was the combination of circumstances whereby Israel came to Tetuan.

Israel’s first years in his strange office had satisfied his master entirely.  He had carried the Basha’s seal and acted for him in all affairs of money.  The revenues had risen to fifty thousand dollars, so that the Basha had twenty thousand to the good.  Then Ben Aboo’s ambition began to override itself.  He started an oil-mill, and wanted Israel to select a hundred houses owned by rich men, that he might compel each house to take ten kollahs of oil—­an extravagant quantity, at seven dollars for each kollah—­an exorbitant price.  Israel had refused.  “It is not just,” he had said.

Other expedients for enlarging his revenue Ben Aboo had suggested, but Israel had steadfastly resisted all of them.  Sometimes the Governor had pretended that he had received an order from the Sultan to impose a gross and wicked tax, but Israel’s answer had been the same.  “There is no evil in the world but injustice,” he had said.  “Do justice, and you do all that God can ask or man expect.”

For such opposition to the will of the Basha any other person would have been cast into a damp dungeon at night, and chained in the hot sun by day.  Israel was still necessary.  So Ben Aboo merely longed for the dawn of that day whereon he should need him no more.

But since the disaster which had befallen Israel’s house everything had undergone a change.  It was now Israel himself who suggested dubious means of revenue.  There was no device of a crafty brain for turning the very air itself into money—­ransoms, promissory notes, and false judgments—­but Israel thought of it.  Thus he persuaded the Governor to send his small currency to the Jewish shops to