The Consul shook his head when he heard of Djigheli Bay.

’Those fellows, the Cabeleyzes, hate the French, and make little enough of the Dey, though they do send home Moors who fall into their hands.  Did you see a ruined fort on a promontory?  That was the Bastion de France.  The old King Louis put it up and garrisoned it, but these rogues contrived a surprise, and made four hundred prisoners, and ever since they have been neither to have nor to hold.  Well for you, young gentleman, that you did not fall into their hands, but those of the country Moors—­very decent folk—­descended, they say, from the Spanish Moors.  A renegade got you off, did he?  Yes, they will sometimes do that, though at an awful risk.  If they are caught, they are hung up alive on hooks to the walls.  You had an escape, I can tell you, and so had he, poor fellow, of being taken alive.’

‘He knew the risk!’ said Arthur, in a low voice; ’but my mother had once been good to him, and he dared everything for me.’

The Consul readily estimated Arthur’s legacy as amounting to little less than 200 pounds, and was also ready to give him bills of exchange for it.  The next question was as to Fareek.  To return him to his own country was impossible; and though the Consul offered to buy him of Arthur, not only did the young Scot revolt at the idea of making traffic of the faithful fellow, but Mr. Thompson owned that there might be some risk in Algiers of his being recognised as a runaway; and though this was very slight, it was better not to give any cause of offence.  Captain Beresford thought the poor man might be disposed of at Port Mahon, and Arthur kept to himself that Tam’s bequest was sacred to him.  His next wish was for clothes to which he might have a better right than to the uniform of the senior midshipman of H.M.S.  Calypso—­a garb in which he did not like to appear before the French Consul.  Mr. Thompson consulted his Greek clerk, and a chest belonging to a captured merchantman, which had been claimed as British property, but had not found an owner, was opened, and proved to contain a wardrobe sufficient to equip Arthur like other gentlemen of the day, in a dark crimson coat, with a little gold lace about it, and the rest of the dress white, a wide beaver hat, looped up with a rosette, and everything, indeed, except shoes, and he was obliged to retain those of the senior midshipman.  With his dark hair tied back, and a suspicion of powder, he found himself more like the youth whom Lady Nithsdale had introduced in Madame de Varennes’ salon than he had felt for the last month; and, moreover, his shyness and awkwardness had in great measure disappeared during his vicissitudes, and he had made many steps towards manhood.