Yet the grief of being separated from his loved ones, and the uncertainty of their welfare, preyed upon his mind, almost shaking the trust which had upheld him so long.  It was a time of trial for poor Nathan, yet his faith came forth from the trial untarnished.

Yusuf sought in vain to gain admission to the poor prisoner:  the utmost that he could accomplish was to pay the attendant for carrying one brief message to him, assuring him that his wife and children were well, and cared for.

The mystery of the gold cup was still unsolved.  One day, however, when going down one of the busiest streets, Yusuf saw, at some distance, a little man walking along with a pack on his back.  The peculiar hopping motion of his gait proclaimed him at once to be Abraham, the little Jew.

“The very man!” thought Yusuf.  “If any one between Syria and Yemen can ferret out a mystery, it is Abraham the peddler.  If I can once set him in earnest upon the track, deliverance may be speedy for poor Nathan.”

The peddler was walking very rapidly, but Yusuf strode after him, now losing sight of him in the crowd, now catching a glimpse of his little bobbing figure, until, out of breath, he finally reached him and caught his arm.

The Jew started in surprise.  “Defend us, friend!” he exclaimed.  “You come on a man like the poison-wind, as quickly if not as deadly.  So you are still in Mecca!  What are you doing now?”

He was as inquisitive as ever, but Yusuf did not resent the trait in him now.

“I am on important business just at present, my friend,” he said, in his kindliest tone, “on business in which I am sure Abraham the Jew can help me, better than any other man in Mecca.”

“Ha!” exclaimed the peddler, “and what may that be?”

“Can you keep a still tongue when it is necessary, Jew?”

The peddler placed his fingers on his lips, rolled up his eyes, and nodded assent.

“Then come with me to the house of Amzi the benevolent,—­my Meccan home,—­and I shall explain.”

When seated comfortably on divans in the coolest part of the house, Yusuf told the story of the gold cup, and intimated that Abraham’s wandering life and the numberless throngs of people with whom his trade threw him in contact, gave him facilities, impossible to others, of doing a little detective work in a quiet way.

The Jew listened, silent and motionless, with his eyes fixed on a lotus-bud carved on the cornice.  Only once did he turn and fix his little round eyes sharply on the priest’s face.

“There is just one more thing—­” continued Yusuf, then he stopped.  He was about to tell of the little carnelian stone, when his eye fell upon one of the numerous rings upon the Jew’s fat fingers.  There, in the center of it, was a small cavity from which, apparently, a jewel of some sort had fallen from its setting.

Yusuf almost sprang to his feet in the excitement of the discovery.