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formerly. The following are the official
regulations in this respect:

"A prisoner under sentence for life, who had
passed twelve mouths in separate confinement,
would, by exemplary conduct for iive years on public
works, become eligible for embarkation.

"Minimum period of detention on public works
applicable to prisoners whose conduct is exemplary:

"A prisoner sentenced to 7 years, for a period of 1 year.

Ditto        "         10        "        "        1¾        "        
Ditto  "20""4"
Ditto     "Life""5"
after which they are sent out as holders of tickets
of leave."

When a prisoner has conducted himself
well during his probation he is furnished
with a ticket of leave in the colony to which
he may be sent, is allowed to hire himself for
wages, to live in a dwelling of his own,—and
to such an extent are his privileges carried
that Government even partially defrays the
expense of sending out to him his wife and
family. The only conditions annexed to his
ticket of leave are that he shall be well-
conducted, and report himself periodically to the
Police Office of the district in which he may
reside.

AMONG THE MOORS.

THE LEGEND OF THE CASTLE.

NOTWITHSTANDING its proximity to
Gibraltar, and the constant intercourse and
commerce kept up with Europeans, Tangier
preserves its primitive appearance and bears
the stamp of a thoroughly Moorish town.
Like most Moslem cities it is surrounded by
beautiful gardens, and the ride of a few miles
will reward the tourist with some very pretty
scenery. There is work, too, for the
antiquary round about Tangier. Ruins of cities,
remains of a Roman aqueduct, traces of the
Portuguese dominion, strange tombs of
warrior saints who fell in battle, are to be
visited. To the north, also, near the sea, there
stand the ruins of an old castle, famous as
having once been the retreat of a bold
chieftain who rebelled against the Sultan.
This ruin, with portions of its massive outer
wall yet standing, covers a large extent of
ground, and used frequently to be the
destination of my morning rides. Day after
day, when riding listlessly through the
neighbouring lanes, between hedges of the aloe and
prickly pear, my horse paused at the old
castle, and I went in to raise a panic among
bats and owls that were disturbed by my
wandering among its gloomy passages and
desolate old halls.

A very matter-of-fact soldier had, for a
long time, been the attendant on our rides
for it is unsafe to trespass far beyond the
town without a guard; this gentleman had
not a word wherewith to satisfy my curiosity,
or gratify my feminine desire to provide every
ruin with its legend. A change of guide,
however, brought me at last under the
shadow of a charming fellow, a battered, tale-
telling old hunter, named Shebah, or the
Lion, no doubt from his courage. His
conversation was stocked largely with magicians,
genii, and enchanted castles, which he built
up with much gorgeousness of detail, yet
speaking always with a certain dignified
simplicity and a peculiarity of idiom that gave
a piquant relish to the richness of the diet
upon which my ears were put.

One bright September morning, as a small
party of us rested on a grassy spot on what
perhaps had been the tilt-yard of the castle
before-mentioned, enjoying a cool pic-nic
breakfast, the old hunter sat cross-legged in
our neighbourhood, with his long gun beside
him and a knife glittering in his belt, looking
with grave wistfulness at the sparkle of our
wine, and wrestling mentally, perhaps, with
the hard veto of his prophet. To console
himself, he lifted up his voice and told us
all he knew about surrounding objects, sliding
eventually into what he called the Legend of
the Castle. I really cannot repeat it after
him in his own gorgeous words, that sounded
very well upon his lips under the Moorish
castle walls, but would trip less successfully
from mine in England. I will tell the story
as I can, beginning properly with Once upon
a Time.

Once upon a time when this castle, now
decayed, was a strong fortress, there dwelt in
it a certain Arab chief named Muley ben
Abel, alias Al Zagal, or the Valiant. Al
Zagal's valour was not tempered with mercy,
and he was by no means universally esteemed
by all who knew him. The two half-brothers
of Al Zagal were, however, known as the
Good Lords, and the public preference of
these two brothers caused their sudden
disappearance. They were followed out of the
world by their father, Ibn Amir, when he was
a man still in the prime of life. Al Zagal had,
after this time, many fingers pointed at him,
and became so greatly dreaded by the people
that he was not unwilling to give them other
cause for dread. He began accordingly to
prey upon the country people, and the Sultan,
being busy in a war with mountain tribes,
had neither time nor inclination to put any
check on his proceedings. So Al Zagal
collected a troop of black warriors, with
consciences of a like colour with their skins, and
levied black mail on all travellers and
merchants as they passed on their way to
Granada, "which then," said the hunter,
'' our people possessed, and, by the blessing of
Allah, will again possess," The Moors
faithfully believe that they shall in due time
re-conquer Spain; and many families of note,
tracing descent from Moors of Granada, still
keep the keys of houses, and the title-deeds
of lands held by their ancestors, ready to be
produced in the good time that is coming.
Every Friday the Imaums in the mosque pray
for the consummation so devoutly wished.

Al Zagal and his black guards did more