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against each other, the former, one day seizing the khanjar, or dagger, of Pietro, stabbed his adversary to the heart, and the poor fellow dropped down dead in the arms of his master. The murderer fled. What course to pursue under such circumstances it was difficult to determine. Should the event come to the knowledge of the pasha, both master and servants might, perhaps, be thought equally guilty, and be impaled alive; or, if matters were not pushed to such extremities, it might at least be pretended that the deceased was the real owner of whatever property they possessed, in order to confiscate the whole for the benefit of the state. As neither of these results was desirable, the safest course appeared to be to prevent, if possible, the knowledge of the tragedy from transpiring; a task of some difficulty, as all the domestics of the household were acquainted with what had passed. The only individual with whom Pietro could safely consult upon this occasion (for he was unwilling to disclose so horrible a transaction to Maani's relations) was a Maltese renegade, a man of some consideration in the city; and for him, therefore, he immediately despatched a messenger. This man, when he had heard what had happened, was of opinion that the body should be interred in a corner of the house; but Pietro, who had no desire that so bloody a memorial of the Italian temperament should remain in his immediate neighbourhood, and moreover considered it unsafe, thought it would be much better at the bottom of the Tigris. The Maltese, most fortunately, possessed a house and garden on the edge of the river, and thither the body, packed up carefully in a chest, was quickly conveyed, though there was much difficulty in preventing the blood from oozing out, and betraying to its bearers the nature of their burden. When it was dark the chest was put on board a boat, and, dropping down the river, the renegade and two of his soldiers cautiously lowered it into the water; and