ace of the mansion. Three soldiers of
the guard followed him as he bounded from terrace to terrace. One, armed
with a javelin, hurled it at the chieftain. The weapon slightly wounded
Abidan, who, drawing it from his arm, sent it back to the heart of its
owner. The two other soldiers, armed only with swords, gained upon him.
He arrived at the last terrace in the cluster of buildings. He stood
at bay on the brink of the precipice. He regained his breath. They
approached him. He dodged them in their course. Suddenly, with admirable
skill, he flung his scimitar edgewise at the legs of his farthest
foe, who stopped short, roaring with pain. The chieftain sprang at the
foremost, and hurled him down into the street below, where he was dashed
to atoms. A trap-door offered itself to the despairing eye of the
rebel. He descended and found himself in a room filled with women. They
screamed, he rushed through them, and descending a Staircase, entered a
chamber tenanted by a bed-ridden old man. The ancient invalid enquired
the cause of the uproar, and died of fright before he could receive
an answer, at the sight of the awful being before him, covered with
streaming blood. Abidan secured the door, washed his blood-stained face,
and disguising himself in the dusty robes of the deceased Armenian,
sallied forth to watch the fray. The obscure street was silent. The
chieftain proceeded unmolested. At the corner he found a soldier holding
a charger for his captain. Abidan, unarmed, seized a poniard from the
soldier's belt, stabbed him to the heart, and vaulting on the steed,
galloped towards the river. No boat was to be found; he breasted the
stream upon the stout courser. He reached the opposite bank. A company
of camels were reposing by the side of a fountain. Alarm had dispersed
their drivers. He mounted the fleetest in appearance; he dashed to the
nearest gate of the city. The guard at the gate refused him a passage.
He concealed his agitation. A marriage procession, returning from the
country, arrived. He rushed into the centre of it, and overset the bride
in her gilded wagon. In the midst of the confusion, the shrieks, the
oaths, and the scuffle, he forced his way through the gate, scoured over
the country, and never stopped until he had gained the desert.

The uproar died away. The shouts of warriors, the shrieks of women, the
wild clang of warfare, all were silent. The flames were extinguished,
the carnage ceased. The insurrection