Up steep roads the mules climbed.  The first night the halt was at a Cabyle village, where hospitality was eagerly offered to persons of such high reputation for sanctity as the Marabouts; but afterwards habitations grew more scanty as the ground rose higher, and there was no choice but to encamp in the tents brought by the attendants, and which seemed to Arthur a good exchange for the dirty Cabyle huts.

Altogether the journey took six days.  The mules climbed along wild paths on the verge of giddy precipices, where even on foot Arthur would have hesitated to venture.  The scenery would now be thought magnificent, but it was simply frightful to the mind of the early eighteenth century, especially when a constant watch had to be kept to avoid the rush of stones, or avalanches, on an almost imperceptible, nearly perpendicular path, where it was needful to trust to the guidance of the Sunakite, the only one of the cavalcade who had been there before.

On the last day they found themselves on the borders of a slope of pines and other mountain-growing trees, bordering a wide valley or ravine where the Sunakite hinted that Abderrahman might be found.

The cavalcade pursued a path slightly indicated by the treading of feet and hoofs, and presently there emerged on them from a slighter side track between the red stems of the great pines a figure nearly bent double under the weight of two huge faggots, with a basket of great solid fir-cones on the top of them.  Very scanty garments seemed to be vouchsafed to him, and the bare arms and legs were so white, as well as of a length so unusual among Arabs or Moors, that simultaneously the Marabout exclaimed, ‘One of the Giaour captives,’ and Arthur cried out, ‘La Jeunesse!  Laurence!’

There was only just time for a start and a response, ’M.  Arture!  And is it yourself?’ before a howl of vituperation was heard—­of abuse of all the ancestry of the cur of an infidel slave, the father of tardiness—­and a savage-looking man appeared, brandishing a cudgel, with which he was about to belabour his unfortunate slave, when he was arrested by astonishment, and perhaps terror, at the goodly company of Marabouts.  Hadji Eseb entered into conversation with him, and meanwhile Lanty broke forth, ‘O wirrah, wirrah, Master Arthur! an’ have they made a haythen Moor of ye?  By the powers, but this is worse than all.  What will Mademoiselle say?—­she that has held up the faith of every one of us, like a little saint and martyr as she is!  Though, to be sure, ye are but a Protestant; only these folks don’t know the differ.’

‘If you would let me speak, Laurence,’ said Arthur, ’you would hear that I am no more a Moslem than yourself, only my Frank dress might lead to trouble.  We are come to deliver you all, with a ransom from the French Consul.  Are you all safe—­Mademoiselle and all? and how many of you?’

‘Mademoiselle and M. l’Abbe were safe and well three days since,’ said Lanty; ’but that spalpeen there is my master and poor Victorine’s, and will not let us put a foot near them.’