Such were the operations which by the whim of fate had been so strangely revealed to Ali, but Ali’s own plan was a different matter.  This was the feast of the Moolood, and on one of the nights of it, probably the eighth night, the last night, Friday night, Ben Aboo the Basha was to give a “gathering of delight,” to the Sultan, his Ministers, his Kaids, his Kadis, his Khaleefas, his Umana, and great rascals generally.  Ali’s stout heart stuck at nothing.  He was for having the Spaniards brought up to the gates of the town, on the very night when the whole majesty and iniquity of Barbary would be gathered in one room; then, locking the entire kennel of dogs in the banqueting hall, firing the Kasbah and burning it to the ground, with all the Moorish tyrants inside of it like rats in a trap.

One danger attended his bold adventure, for Naomi’s person was within the Kasbah walls.  To meet this peril Ali was himself to find his way into the dungeon, deliver Naomi, lock the Kasbah gate, and deliver up to another the key that should serve as a signal for the beginning of the great night’s work.

Also one difficulty attended it, for while Ali would be at the Kasbah there would be no one to bring up the Spaniards at the proper moment for the siege—­no one in Tetuan on whom the strangers could rely not to lead them blindfold into a trap.  To meet this difficulty Ali had gone in search of the Mahdi, revealed to him his plan, and asked him to help in the downfall of his master’s enemies by leading the Spaniards at the right moment to the gates that should be thrown open to receive them.

Hearing Ali’s story, the Mahdi had been aflame with tender thoughts of Naomi’s trials, with hatred of Ben Aboo’s tyrannies, and pity of Israel’s miseries.  But at first his humanity had withheld him from sympathy with Ali’s dark purpose, so full, as it seemed, of barbarity and treachery.

“Ali,” he had said, “is it not all you wish for to get Naomi out of prison and take her back to her father?”

“Yes, Sidi,” Ali had answered promptly.

“And you don’t want to torture these tyrants if you can do what you desire without it?”

“No-o, Sidi,” Ali had said doubtfully.

“Then,” the Mahdi had said, “let us try.”

But when the Mahdi was gone to Tetuan on his errand of warning that proved so vain, Ali had crept back behind him, so that secretly and independently he might carry out his fell design.  The towns-people were ready to receive him, for the air was full of rebellion, and many had waited long for the opportunity of revenge.  To certain of the Jews, his master’s people, who were also in effect his own, he went first with his mission, and they listened with eagerness to what he had come to say.  When their own time came to speak they spoke cautiously, after the manner of their race, and nervously, like men who knew too well what it was to be crushed and kept under; but they gave their help notwithstanding, and Ali’s scheme progressed.