At length Mariam quitted her home and placed herself under the protection of the Mahometan authorities, who, however, refrained from delivering her into the arms of her lover, and detained her in a mosque until the fact of her real conversion (which had been indignantly denied by her relatives) should be established.  For two or three days the mother of the young convert was prevented from communicating with her child by various evasive contrivances, but not, it would seem, by a flat refusal.  At length it was announced that the young lady’s profession of faith might be heard from her own lips.  At an hour appointed the friends of the Sheik and the relatives of the damsel met in the mosque.  The young convert addressed her mother in a loud voice, and said, “God is God, and Mahomet is the Prophet of God, and thou, oh my mother, art an infidel, feminine dog!”

You would suppose that this declaration, so clearly enounced, and that, too, in a place where Mahometanism is perhaps more supreme than in any other part of the empire, would have sufficed to have confirmed the pretensions of the lover.  This, however, was not the case.  The Greek priest of the place was despatched on a mission to the Governor of Jerusalem (Aboo Goosh), in order to complain against the proceedings of the Sheik and obtain a restitution of the bride.  Meanwhile the Mahometan authorities at Nablus were so conscious of having acted unlawfully in conspiring to disturb the faith of the beautiful infidel, that they hesitated to take any further steps, and the girl was still detained in the mosque.

Thus matters stood when the Christians of the place came and sought to obtain my assistance.

I felt (with regret) that I had no personal interest in the matter, and I also thought that there was no pretence for my interfering with the conflicting claims of the Christian husband and the Mahometan lover, and I therefore declined to take any step.

My speaking of the husband, by-the-bye, reminds me that he was extremely backward about the great work of recovering his youthful bride.  The relations of the girl, who felt themselves disgraced by her conduct, were vehement and excited to a high pitch, but the Menelaus of Nablus was exceedingly calm and composed.

The fact that it was not technically my duty to interfere in a matter of this kind was a very sufficient, and yet a very unsatisfactory, reason for my refusal of all assistance.  Until you are placed in situations of this kind you can hardly tell how painful it is to refrain from intermeddling in other people’s affairs—­to refrain from intermeddling when you feel that you can do so with happy effect, and can remove a load of distress by the use of a few small phrases.  Upon this occasion, however, an expression fell from one of the girl’s kinsmen which not only determined me against the idea of interfering, but made me hope that all attempts to recover the proselyte would fail.  This person, speaking