His voice trembled with a passionate hate; his eyes gleamed with excitement; his nails dug into the palms of his hands.

"Now Master, gladden my eyes and expand my breast by letting me see this old jackal's blood!" "No, Rrisa," the Master denied him.

"I have other use for the old jackal.

Other punishments await him than death at my hands." "What punishments, Master ?" the Arab cried with terrible eagerness.
"Wait, and thou shalt see.

And remember always, I am thy sheik, thy preserver, with whom thou hast shared the salt.