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Thus, in his frenzy, pretending to imitate with airs of manifest mockery his outbreak of fear a few minutes before, Ben Aboo raved and raged and lifted his clenched fist to the sky in sham imprecation of God. "Who said it was the Sultan?" he cried again. "He was a fool. Abd er-Rahman? No; but Mohammed of Mequinez! Mohammed the Third! That's it! That's it!"
The Mequinez family is not here, but at a little distance off, a few hours from Tucuman." "Where? where?" shrieked Marco, springing up like one restored to life.
Then he said quickly, "Merelli knew my mother; my mother who was at service with Signor Mequinez. He alone could tell me where she is. I have come to America to find my mother. Merelli sent her our letters. I must find my mother." "Poor boy!" said the woman; "I don't know. I can ask the boy in the courtyard. He knew the young man who did Merelli's errands. He may be able to tell us something."
"God will show," said Israel, and he pushed forward. "Ah, true yes certainly my lord is tired," puffed the Kaid, bowing again most profoundly. "Well, your lodging is ready the best in Mequinez and your mona is cooking all the dainties of Barbary and when our merciful Abd er-Rahman has made you his Grand Vizier "
"The Mequinez family lives here, does it not?" demanded the lad anxiously. "They did live here," replied the young lady, pronouncing her Italian in Spanish fashion. "Now we, the Zeballos, live here." "And where have the Mequinez gone?" asked Marco, his heart palpitating. "They have gone to Cordova." "Cordova!" exclaimed Marco. "Where is Cordova? And the person whom they had in their service?
She went to the end of the shop and called the lad, who came instantly. "Tell me," asked the shopwoman, "do you remember whether Merelli's young man went occasionally to carry letters to a woman in service, in the house of the son of the country?" "To Signor Mequinez," replied the lad; "yes, signora, sometimes he did. At the end of the street del los Artes." "Ah! thanks, signora!" cried Marco.
Go there and find the gentleman to whom this letter is addressed, and whom every one knows. Carry the letter to him. He will send you off to the town of Rosario to-morrow, and will recommend you to some one there, who will think out a way of enabling you to pursue your journey to Cordova, where you will find the Mequinez family and your mother. In the meanwhile, take this."
Not dissenters from the Koran, but stricter conformers to it; not Nazarenes and not Jews, yet followers of Jesus in their customs and of Moses in their doctrines. And Moors and Berbers, Arabs and Negroes, Muslimeen and Jews, heard the cry of Mohammed of Mequinez, and he received them all.
Inside were a man with spectacles, and two women. He approached the door slowly, and summoning up a resolute spirit, he inquired: "Can you tell me, signor, where the family Mequinez is?" "The engineer Mequinez?" asked the innkeeper in his turn. "The engineer Mequinez," replied the lad in a thread of a voice. "The Mequinez family is not in Tucuman," replied the innkeeper.
At any time the frontier forays in which the tribes on both sides indulge may be fomented or exaggerated, as in the case of Tunis, to afford a like excuse for a similar occupation, which beyond a doubt would be a good thing for Morocco. Fez captured, and the seaports kept in awe or bombarded by the navy, Mequinez would fall, and an army landed in Mazagan would seize Marrákesh.
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