gland the
eldest always succeeds, except in moveables, and those always go to the
youngest.'

Barizy of the Tower, though he gave up to Pasqualigo in theology, partly
from delicacy, being a Jew, would yield to no man in Jerusalem in his
knowledge of law.

'If he goes on at this rate,' said the Armenian, 'he will soon spend all
his money; this place is dearer than Stamboul.'

'There is no fear of his spending all his money,' said their host, 'for
the young man has brought me such a letter that if he were to tell me to
rebuild the temple, I must do it.'

'And who is this young man, Besso?' exclaimed the Invisible, starting
up, and himself exhibiting a youthful countenance; fair, almost
effeminate, no beard, a slight moustache, his features too delicate, but
his brow finely arched, and his blue eye glittering with fire.

'He is an English lord,' said Besso, 'and one of the greatest; that is
all I know.'

'And why does he come here?' inquired the youth. 'The English do not
make pilgrimages.' 'Yet you have heard what he has done.' 'And why
is this silent Frenchman smoking your Latakia,' he continued in a low
voice. 'He comes to Jerusalem at the same time as this Englishman.
There is more in this than meets our eye. You do not know the northern
nations. They exist only in political combinations. You are not a
politician, my Besso. Depend upon it, we shall hear more of this
Englishman, and of his doing something else than praying at the Holy
Sepulchre.'

'It may be so, most noble Emir, but as you say, I am no politician.'

'Would that you were, my Besso! It would be well for you and for all of
us. See now,' he added in a whisper, 'that apparently inanimate mass,
Scheriff Effendi--that man has a political head, he understands a
combination, he is going to smuggle me five thousand English muskets
into the desert, he will deliver them to a Bedouin tribe, who have
engaged to convey them safely to the Mountain. There, what do you think
of that, my Besso? Do you know now what are politics? Tell the Rose of
Sharon of it. She will say it is beautiful. Ask the Rose what she thinks
of it, my Besso.'

'Well, I shall see her to-morrow.'

'I have done well; have I not?'

'You are satisfied; that is well.'

'Not quite, my Besso; but I can be satisfied if you please. You see that
Scheriff Effendi there, sitting like an Afrite; he will not give me the
muskets unless I pay him for them; and the Bedouin chief, he will not
carry