"Dreadful!" exclaimed the consul "Where is she now?"
Sidi Cadua silently pointed to a ragged old burnous in a dark corner of the little cellar, under which a human form lay crouched up and motionless.
"Not dead?" asked the consul anxiously.
"No, not dead," replied the old man, with an upward glance of gratitude.
"Sidi Cadua," exclaimed the consul, rising hastily, "excuse my leaving you now. I have to attend the divan. You shall hear from me soon. You—you"—looking round—"have no other house than this—no food?"
"Nothing!" said the old man in a low voice, as his white head sank on his bosom.
"Listen, my man," said the consul earnestly, as he hastened down to the Marina.
"Yis, Signer," answered Bobi.
"Can you find time to go out to my house just now?"
"Yis, Signor."
"Then, go—go as fast as legs or horse can carry you. See my wife; tell her what we have seen; let her send Rais Ali into town with other servants—separately, not to attract attention—with baskets—full baskets, you understand?"
"Yis, Signer, full to bustin'" answered Bobi, with glittering eyes.
