ty of their Prophet. The people all called out for the
venerable Lord Bostenay and the gentle Lady Miriam, and ran in crowds to
see who could first kiss the hem of their garments.

The principal gate of Hamadan opened into the square of the great
mosque. Here the whole population of the city appeared assembled. The
gates were thrown open; Jabaster and his companions mounted guard. The
short twilight died away, the shades of night descended. The minarets
were illumined,[57] the houses hung with garlands, the ramparts covered
with tapestry and carpets.

A clang of drums, trumpets, and cymbals announced the arrival of the
Hebrew army. The people shouted, the troops without responded with a
long cheer of triumph. Amid the blaze of torches, a youth waving his
scimitar, upon a coal-black steed, bounded into the city, at the head
of his guards, the people fell upon their knees, and shouted 'Long live
Alroy!'

A venerable man, leading a beauteous maiden with downcast eyes,
advanced. They headed a deputation of the chief inhabitants of the city.
They came to solicit mercy and protection. At the sight of them, the
youthful warrior leaped from his horse, flung away his scimitar, and
clasping the maiden in his arms, exclaimed, 'Miriam, my sister, this,
this indeed is triumph!'

'Drink,' said Kisloch the Kourd to Calidas the Indian; 'you forget,
comrade, we are no longer Moslemin.'

'Wine, methinks, has a peculiarly pleasant flavour in a golden cup,'
said the Guebre. 'I got this little trifle to-day in the Bazaar,' he
added, holding up a magnificent vase studded with gems.

'I thought plunder was forbidden,' grinned the Negro.

'So it is,' replied the Guebre; 'but we may purchase what we please,
upon credit.'

'Well, for my part, I am a moderate man,' exclaimed Calidas the Indian,
'and would not injure even these accursed dogs of Turks. I have not cut
my host's throat, but only turned him into my porter, and content myself
with his harem, his baths, his fine horses, and other little trifles.'

'What quarters we are in! There is nothing like a true Messiah!'
exclaimed Kisloch, devoutly.

'Nothing,' said Calidas; 'though to speak truth, I did not much believe
in the efficacy of Solomon's sceptre, till his Majesty clove the head of
the valiant Seljuk with it.'

'But now there's no doubt of it,' said the Guebre.

'We should indeed be infidels if we doubted now,' replied the Indian.

'How lucky,' grinned the Negro, 'as I