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Rh a certain street in the town where was kept a Turkish bath. This was not an Anglified Turkish bath, good reader, but a real one; not an imitation, but the actual thing itself fresh from Turkey, managed by Turks, or Moors who were at least half Turks, and conducted in accordance with the strictest rules of Turkish etiquette.

Approaching the door of the bath, he observed a tall dignified and very powerful Arab sauntering in front of it.

Rais Ali seemed troubled by the sight of him, paused, advanced, halted, and again advanced, until the tall Arab, catching sight of him, stalked forward with solemn dignity and held out his hand.

"What for yoo comes here?" demanded Rais rather testily.

The tall Moor slowly bent his hooded head and whispered in his ear—

"Faix, it's more than I rightly know mesilf."

"Yoo's mad," said Rais, drawing the tall Arab into the porch of the bath, where they could avoid the observation of passers-by. "Did not I tell yoo for to keep close?"

"So ye did, Rais Ally," said Ted Flaggan, for it was he, "and it's close I kep' as long as I cu'd, which was aisy enough, seeing that ye brought me purvisions so riglar—like a good feller as ye are; but body o' me, man, I cudn't live in a cave all me lone