"I tell you I----"

"Never mind, don't decide too rashly. Pleasant dreams."

"Pleasant dreams," said the orphan. "I shall have the nightmare."

The orphan's pillow was haunted that night by visions of a terrible nature.

He fancied himself in the presence of a turbaned Turk, a powerful pasha, who was sitting cross-legged on an ottoman, smoking a pipe, of endless length, and holding in his hand a drawn sword--a scimitar that looked ready to chop his head off.

Beside this terrible Turk stood five ladies, in baggy trousers, and long veils.

No words were spoken, but instinctively the orphan knew that he had to decide between the scimitar and the quintet of wives--wall-flowers of the pasha's harem.

Silently, in mute horror, the orphan was about to submit to the least of the two evils, and choose a wife.

Then he awoke suddenly.

What an immense relief it was to find it only a dream after all.

"I don't quite believe that young Harkaway," said the orphan, dubiously; "he is such a dreadful practical joker. But I won't go on sh.o.r.e, nevertheless. It's not very interesting to see these savages, after all; they really are nothing more than savages."

And after a long and tedious time spent in endeavouring to get to sleep again, he dropped off.

But only to dream again about getting very much married.

He slept far into the morning, for his dreams had disturbed him much, and he was tired out.

When he awoke, there was someone knocking at his cabin door.

"Come in."

"It's only me, Mr. Figgins," said a familiar voice.

"Come in, captain."

Captain Deering entered.

"Not up yet, Mr. Figgins?" he said, in surprise. "We've got visitors aboard already."

"Dear me."

"Distinguished visitors. The pasha and his suite."

"You don't say so?" exclaimed the orphan, sitting up.

"Fact, sir," returned the captain. "It must be ten years since I last had the honour of an interview with his excellency."

"You know him, then, Captain Deering?"

"Rather. Been here often. Know every inch of the country," said the captain.

"What sort of a man is the pasha?" said the orphan, thinking of Jack's statement.

"Oh, a decent fellow enough, unless he's riled," was the reply.

"Do you speak the language?" said the orphan.

"Like a native."

"Is he as much married as they say?" demanded Mr. Figgins.

The captain smiled.

"His excellency has a weakness that way; but," he added, in a warning voice, "you must not make any allusion to that."

"I won't see him," said Mr. Figgins. "I don't intend to visit him."

"But I have come to fetch you to pay your respects."

"Where?"

"Here, on board, in the state saloon."

"But----"

"Make haste, Mr. Figgins," interrupted Captain Deering. "It is no joke to make a pasha wait. Look alive. I'll come and fetch you in five minutes. Up you get."

And then Captain Deering departed.

Mr. Figgins was sorely perplexed now.

But he arose and began to dress himself as quickly as possible.

"After all," he said to himself, "it is just as well. I should certainly like to see the pasha, and this is a bit of luck, for there's no danger here at any rate, if what that young Harkaway said was true."

He went to the cabin door and shouted out for Tinker.

"Tinker!"

"He's engaged," answered Captain Deering, who was close by.

"I want him."

"He's away, attending his excellency in the saloon," returned Captain Deering.

"Bogey then."