the eye could reach, the long
line of their straggling procession stretched across the wilderness,
thousands of camels in strings, laden with bales of merchandise, and
each company headed by an animal of superior size, leading with tinkling
bells; groups of horsemen, clusters of litters; all the pilgrims
armed to their teeth, the van formed by a strong division of Seljukian
cavalry, and the rear protected by a Kourdish clan, who guaranteed the
security of the pious travellers through their country.

Abdallah was the favourite slave of the charitable merchant Ali. In
obedience to his master's orders, he unwillingly descended from his
camel, and examined the body of the apparently lifeless Alroy.

'A Kourd, by his dress,' exclaimed Abdallah, with a sneer; 'what does he
here?'

'It is not the face of a Kourd,' replied Ali; 'perchance a pilgrim from
the mountains.'

'Whatever he be, he is dead,' answered the slave: 'I doubt not an
accursed Giaour.'

'God is great,' exclaimed Ali; 'he breathes; the breast of his caftan
heaved.'

''Twas the wind,' said Abdallah.

''Twas the sigh of a human heart,' answered Ali.

Several pilgrims who were on foot now gathered around the group.

'I am a Hakim,'[17] observed a dignified Armenian. 'I will feel his
pulse; 'tis dull, but it beats.'

'There is but one God,' exclaimed Ali.

'And Mahomed is his Prophet,' responded Abdallah. 'You do not believe in
him, you Armenian infidel.'

'I am a Hakim,' replied the dignified Armenian. 'Although an infidel,
God has granted me skill to cure true believers. Worthy Ali, believe me,
the boy may yet live.'

'Hakim, you shall count your own dirhems if he breathe in my divan in
Bagdad,' answered Ali; 'I have taken a fancy to the boy. God has sent
him to me. He shall carry my slippers.'

'Give me a camel, and I will save his life.'

'We have none,' said the servant.

'Walk, Abdallah,' said the master.

'Is a true believer to walk to save the life of a Kourd? Master
slipper-bearer shall answer for this, if there be any sweetness in the
bastinado,' murmured Abdallah.

The Armenian bled Alroy; the blood flowed slowly but surely. The Prince
of the Captivity opened his eyes.

'There is but one God,' exclaimed Ali.

'The evil eye fall on him!' muttered Abdallah.

The Armenian took a cordial from his vest, and poured it down his
patient's throat. The blood flowed more freely.

'He will live, worthy merchant,' said the physician.