the throne in order, and
exhibited their various ingenuity. Thrice was the proclamation made,
amid the sound of trumpets, and then began the games.

A thousand horsemen dashed into the arena and threw the jerreed. They
galloped at full speed; they arrested their fiery charges in mid course,
and flung their long javelins at the minute but sparkling target, the
imitative form of a rare and brilliant bird. The conquerors received
their prizes from the hand of the princess herself, bright shawls, and
jewelled daggers, and rosaries of gems. Sometimes the trumpets announced
a prize from the vice-queen, sometimes from the venerable Bostenay,
sometimes from the victorious generals, or the loyal deputations,
sometimes from the united trades, sometimes from the City of Bagdad,
sometimes from the City of Hamadan. The hours flew away in gorgeous and
ceaseless variety.

'I would we were alone, my own Schirene,' said Alroy to his bride.

'I would so too; and yet I love to see all Asia prostrate at the feet of
Alroy.'

'Will the sun never set? Give me thy hand to play with.'

'Hush! See, Miriam smiles.'

'Lovest thou my sister, my own Schirene?'

'None dearer but thyself.'

'Talk not of my sister, but ourselves. Thinkest thou the sun is nearer
setting, love?'

'I cannot see; thine eyes they dazzle me, they are so brilliant, sweet!'

'Oh, my soul! I could pour out my passion on thy breast.'

'Thou art very serious.'

'Love is ever so.'

'Nay, sweet! It makes me wild and fanciful. Now I could do such things,
but what I know not. I would we had wings, and then we would fly away.'

'See, I must salute this victor in the games. Must I unloose thy hand!
Dear hand, farewell! Think of me while I speak, my precious life. 'Tis
done. Give back thy hand, or else methinks I shall die. What's this?'

A horseman, in no holiday dress, but covered with dust, rushed into the
circus, bearing in his hand a tall lance, on which was fixed a scroll.
The marshals of the games endeavoured to prevent his advance, but he
would not be stayed. His message was to the king alone. A rumour of news
from the army circulated throughout the crowd. And news from the army it
was. Another victory! Scherirah had defeated the Sultan of Roum, who was
now a suppliant for peace and alliance. Sooth to say, the intelligence
had arrived at dawn of day, but the courtly Honain had contrived that it
should be communicated at a later and more effective moment.

The