While the spirit of the poor slave was passing away, Sidi Omar approached the spot. Blindi Bobi, remembering a former and somewhat similar occasion, at once glided behind a projection of the walls and made off.
"He is past your help now, Giovanni," said Omar to the old man, for whom he, in common with nearly all the people of the town, entertained great respect, despite his Christianity, for the Padre had spent the greater part of a long life among them, in the exercise of such pure, humble philanthropy, that even his enemies, if he had any, were at peace with him.
"His spirit is with God who gave it," replied the old man, rising and contemplating sadly the poor crushed form that lay at his feet.
"His spirit won't give us any more trouble, then," returned Omar, as he regarded the dead man with a stern glance; "he was one of the most turbulent of our slaves."
"And one of the most severely tried," said Giovanni, looking gently in the face of the Minister of Marine.
"He had all the advantages and comforts of other slaves; I know not what you mean by 'tried,'" retorted Omar, with a grim smile.
"He was wrenched, with his family, from home and friends and earthly hope, twenty years ago; he
