sued by a hostile band, had come to take refuge within his gates, in the city of Damascus. For a week the whole band claimed the hospitality of their brother, and made their camp in the house and grounds of Lady Margaret. Her attention was attracted to Abdul, then young and handsome (he has often assured me) as the morning star, tall as the palm-tree, and strong as the whirlwind. Abdul was at that time in great trouble; his favorite wife had died, leaving him the one daughter of his house, Zuleika, then a child of five. Instead of intrusting her to the care of the women, Abdul was always with the little girl, who was as dear to him as the spring of water in the desert. Lady Margaret was struck by the devotion of this young father to his child, and became deeply interested in the pair. When the welcome time came for the departure of her strange guests, Lady Margaret asked of Abdul his daughter, his Zuleika, the breath of his body, the sun of his sky. It was all she asked of
