must rest on their benches; and to do so with clothes soaked with the heavy dew must be a severe trial, and most prejudicial to the health.  The awning cost but a few ducats, and I reckon that, putting aside the comfort to the slaves, it will be very speedily repaid by their better health and capacity for labour.  When away in the galley with Sir Louis Ricord, I used to feel the greatest pity for the unfortunate wretches when at daybreak, in their drenched clothes, and shivering with cold and wet, they rose to commence their work.  I then took a vow that if ever I should come to command a galley I would provide an awning for the slaves.”

Two or three of the knights standing by expressed their warm approval of what Gervaise said.  There was, in those days, but little of that sentiment of humanity that is now prevalent, and slaves were everywhere regarded as mere beasts of burden rather than as human beings.  When, however, they had the question put to them, as Gervaise had done, they were ready to give a hearty agreement, although it was the utilitarian rather than the humanitarian side of the question that recommended it to them.  After three hours’ rest the journey was renewed, and just at nightfall the galley anchored off an islet lying to the north of Carpathos.

While the servants were laying the tables along the poop for the evening meal, Gervaise went down to see that his orders were carried out regarding the food for the slaves.  They were already eating their bread and meat with an air of satisfaction that showed how warmly they appreciated the unusual indulgence, while there were few indeed who did not hold up their drinking horns as a servant passed along between the benches with a skin of wine.  Gervaise spoke to many of them.

“Ah, my lord,” one of them said, “if we were always treated like this, slavery would be endurable.  For ten years have I rowed in Christian galleys, but never before has an awning been spread to keep off the sun or the dew.  We shall not forget your kindness, my lord, and will row our hardest right cheerfully when you call upon us for an effort.”

There was a murmur of assent from the galley slaves around.

“May Allah be merciful to you, as you are merciful to us!” another slave exclaimed.  “The blessing of those whom you regard as infidels can at least do you no harm.”

“On the contrary, it can do me good,” Gervaise said.  “The God you Moslems and we Christians worship is, I believe, the same, though under another name.”

Gervaise had, indeed, during his long conversations with Suleiman Ali, often discussed with him the matter of his faith, and had come, in consequence, to regard it in a very different light to that in which it was viewed by his companions.  There was faith in one God at the bottom of both Mohammedanism and Christianity.  The Mohammedans held in reverence the lawgivers and prophets of the Old Testament, and even regarded