“I beg you not to add insult to the injury that I have suffered under your roof,” interrupted Haschim.  “No amount of money can buy off my wrath over the spilt blood of a friend—­and Rustem was my friend—­a free and valiant youth.  As to the punishment of the guilty:  on that I insist.  Blood cries for blood.  That is our creed; and though yours, to be sure, enjoins the contrary, so far as I know you act by the same rule as we.  All honor to your physician; but it goes to my heart, and raises my gall to see such things take place in the house of the man to whom the Khaliff has confided the weal or woe of Egyptian Christians.  Your boasted tolerance has led to the death of an honest though humble man in a time of perfect peace—­or at least maimed him for life.  As to your honesty, it would seem. . .”

“Who dares impugn it?” cried Orion.

“I, young man,” replied the merchant with the calm dignity of age.  “I, who sold this piece of work last evening, and find it this morning robbed of its most precious ornament.”

“The great emerald has been cut from the hanging during the night.”  Dame Neforis explained.  “You yourself went with the man who carried it to the tablinum and saw it laid there.”

“And in the very cloth in which your people had wrapped it,” added Orion.  “Our good old Sebek there was with me.  Who fetched away the bale this morning; who brought it here and opened it?”

“Happily for us,” said the Arab, “it was your lady mother herself, with that man—­your steward if I mistake not—­and your own slaves.”

“Why was it not left where it was?” asked Orion, giving vent to the annoyance which at this moment he really felt.

“Because I had assured your father, and with good reason, that the beauty of this splendid work and of the gems that decorate it show to much greater advantage by daylight and in the sunshine than under the lamps and torches.”

“And besides, your father wished to see his new purchase once more,” Neforis broke in, “and to ask the merchant how the gems might be removed without injury to the work itself.  So I went to the tablinum myself with Sebek.”

“But I had the key!” cried Orion putting his hand into the breast of his robe.

“That I had forgotten,” replied his mother.  “But unfortunately we did not need it.  The tablinum was open.”

“I locked it yesterday; you saw me do it, Sebek. . .”

“So I told the mistress,” replied the steward.  “I perfectly recollect hearing the snap of the strong lock.”

Orion shrugged his shoulders, and his mother went on: 

But the bronze doors must have been opened during the night with a false key, or by some other means; for part of the hanging had been pulled out of the wrapper, and when we looked closely we saw that the large emerald had been wrenched out of the setting.”

“Shameful!” exclaimed Orion.