In the course of their journey they received news of all that had been happening at Memphis, and when the travellers were approaching their last night-quarters, and the Pyramids were already in sight, the governor said to little Mary:
“What do you say little one? Do we not owe the Memphites the treat of a splendid marriage festival?”
“No, my lord, two,” replied the child.
“How is that?” laughed Amru, “You are too young and do not count yet, and I know no other maiden in Memphis whose wedding I should care to provide for.”
“But there is a man towards whom you feel most kindly, and who lives as lonely as a recluse. I should like to see him married, and at the same time as Orion and Paula. I mean our good friend Philippus.”
“The physician? And is he still unwed?” asked Amru in surprise; for no Moslem of the leech’s age and position could remain unmarried without exposing himself to the contempt of his fellow-believers. “He is a widower then!”
“No,” replied Mary. “He has never yet found a wife to suit him; but I know one created on purpose for him by God himself!”
“You little Khatbe!”—[A professional go-between]—cried the governor. “Well, settle the matter, and it shall be no fault of mine if the second wedding lacks magnificence.”
“And we will have a third!” interrupted the child, clapping her hands and laughing. “My worthy escort Rustem. . . .
“The colossus! Why, child, to you all things are possible! Have you found a wife for him too?”
“No, he found Mandane for himself without my help.”
“It is the same thing!” cried the governor jovially. “I will provide for her. But that must satisfy you, or else all those unbelievers whom we are settling here will drive us Moslem Arabs out of the land.”
The great man had often held such discourse as this with the child since she had entered his tent at Berenice, there to lay before him the case of the couple she loved, and for whom she had taken on herself great risk and hardship; she had pleaded so eloquently, so kindly, and with such fervent and pathetic words, that Amru had at once made up his mind to grant her everything that lay in his power. Mary had done him a service, too, by bringing him the information she could give him, for it enabled him to avert perils which threatened the interests of the Crescent, and also to save the children of two men he honored—the son of the Mukaukas, and the daughter of Thomas—from imminent danger.
He found, on his return home, that the Vekeel’s crimes far exceeded his worst fears. Obada’s proceedings had begun to undermine that respect for Arab rule and Moslem justice which Amru had done his utmost to secure. It was only by a miracle that Orion had escaped his plots, for he had three times sent assassins to the prison, and it was entirely owing to the watchful care of pretty Emau’s husband that the youth had been able to save himself in the