“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.

“Disgraceful!” added the governor, vehemently starting up.  He had fallen a prey to fearful unrest and horror:  he thought that his Lord and Saviour, to whom he had dedicated the precious jewel, regarded him as so sinful and worthless that He would not accept the gift at his hands.  But perhaps it was only Satan striving to hinder him from approaching the Most High with so noble an offering.  At any rate, human cunning had been at work, so he said with stern resolution: 

“The matter shall be enquired into, and in the name of Jesus Christ, to whom the stone already belongs, I will never rest nor cease till the criminal is in my hands.”

“And in the name of Allah and the Prophet,” added the Arab, “I will aid thee, if I have to appeal for help to the great chief Amru, the Khaliff’s representative in this country.—­A word was spoken here just now that I cannot and will not forget.  And the tone you have chosen to adopt, young man, seems to spring from the same fount:  the old fox, you think, put a false gem of impossible size into the hanging, and has had it stolen that his fraud may not be detected when a jeweller examines the work by daylight.  This is too much!  I am an honest man, Sirs, and I am fain to add a rich one; and the man who tries to cast a stain on the character I have borne through a long life shall learn, to his ruing, that old Haschim has greater and more powerful friends to back him than you may care to meet!”