A few words passed with the captain, and then the little Chevalier was led away to tell his own tale, which he was doing with a full sense of his own importance; but presently the captain returned, and beckoned to Arthur, who had been kneeling beside poor Tam, moistening his lips, and bathing his face, as he lay gasping and apparently unconscious, except that he had gripped hold of his broad sash or girdle when it was taken off.

‘The child tells me he is Comte de Bourke’s son,’ said the captain, in a tentative manner, as if doubtful whether he should be understood, and certainly Arthur looked more Moorish than European.

’Yes, sir!  He was on his way with his mother to join his father when we were taken by a Moorish corsair.’

‘But you are not French?’ said the captain, recognising the tones.

’No, sir; Scottish—­Arthur Maxwell Hope.  I was to have gone as the Count’s secretary.’

’You have escaped from the Moors?  I could not understand what the boy said.  Where are the lady and the rest?’

Arthur as briefly as he could, for he was very anxious to return to poor Tam, explained the wreck and the subsequent adventures, saying that he feared the poor Countess was lost, but that he had seen her daughter and some of her suite on a rock.  Captain Beresford was horrified at the idea of a Christian child among the wild Arabs.  His station was Minorca, but he had just been at the Bay of Rosas, where poor Comte de Bourke’s anxiety and distress about his wife and children were known, and he had received a request amounting to orders to try to obtain intelligence about them, so that he held it to be within his duty to make at once for Djigheli Bay.

For further conversation was cut short by sounds of articulate speech from poor Tam.  Arthur turned hastily, and the captain proceeded to give his orders.

‘Is Maister Hope here?’

‘Here!  Yes.  O Tam, dear Tam, if I could do anything!’ cried Arthur.

‘I canna see that well,’ said Tam, with a sound of anxiety.  ’Where’s my sash?’

‘This is it, in your own hand,’ said Arthur, thinking he was wandering, but the other hand sought one of the ample folds, which was sewn over, and weighty.

‘Tak’ it; tak’ tent of it; ye’ll need the siller.  Four hunder piastres of Tunis, not countin’ zeechins, and other sma’ coin.’

‘Shall I send them to any one at Eyemouth?’

Tam almost laughed.  ’Na, na; keep them and use them yersell, sir.  There’s nane at hame that wad own puir Tam.  The leddy, your mither, an’ you hae been mair to me than a’ beside that’s above ground, and what wad ye do wi’out the siller?’

‘O Tam!  I owe all and everything to you.  And now —­’

Tam looked up, as Arthur’s utterance was choked, and a great tear fell on his face.  ‘Wha wad hae said,’ murmured he, ’that a son of Burnside wad be greetin’ for Partan Jeannie’s son?’