'Woman, witch, or goddess,' at length exclaimed Hassan Subah, 'what
wouldst thou here?'

'Seljuk! behold this star. 'Tis a single drop of light, yet who even
of thy wild band can look upon it without awe? And yet thou worse than
Sisera, thou comest to combat against those for whom even "the stars in
their courses fought."'

'A Jewish witch!' exclaimed the Seljuk.

'A Jewish witch! Be it so; behold, then, my spell falls upon thee, and
that spell is Destruction.

'Awake, awake, Deborah: awake, awake, utter a song; arise, Barak, and
lead thy captivity captive, thou son of Abinoam!'

Immediately the sky appeared to darken, a cloud of arrows and javelins
broke from all sides upon the clevoted Seljuks: immense masses of stone
and marble were hurled from all directions, horses were stabbed by
spears impelled by invisible hands, and riders fell to the ground
without a struggle, and were trampled upon by their disordered and
affrighted brethren.

'We are betrayed,' exclaimed Hassan Subah, hurling a javelin at the
merchant, but the merchant was gone. The Seljuks raised their famous war
cry.

'Oglu, regain the desert,' ordered the chieftain.

But no sooner had the guard without the walls heard the war cry of
their companions, than, alarmed, for their safety, they rushed to their
assistance. The retreating forces of Subah, each instant diminishing as
they retreated, were baffled in their project by the very eagerness of
their auxiliaries. The unwilling contention of the two parties increased
the confusion; and when the Seljuks, recently arrived, having at length
formed into some order, had regained the gate, they found to their
dismay that the portal was barricadoed and garrisoned by the enemy.
Uninspired by the presence of their commander, who was in the rear, the
puzzled soldiers were seized with a panic, and spurring their
horses, dispersed in all directions of the city. In vain Hassan Subah
endeavoured to restore order. The moment was past. Dashing with about
thirty men to an open ground, which his quick eye had observed in his
progress down the street, and dealing destruction with every blow, the
dreaded Governor of Hamadan, like a true soldier, awaited an inevitable
fate, not wholly despairing that some chance might yet turn up to
extricate him from his forlorn situation.

And now, as it were by enchantment, wild armed men seemed to arise from
every part of the city. From every mass of ruin, from every crumbling