s were greeted
with the delicious odor from the grapes about his head. He found them
surprisingly good, and ate heartily. He soon after fell into a sleep
which lasted some hours, for when he awoke the moon was higher in the
heavens, the voices of the wolves were hushed and the city was silent.

As he lay in a revery, much absorbed in his own thoughts, he gradually
became aware of mysterious changes taking place, as if by stealth,
about him. A decorated ceiling appeared to be closing over the hall.
Mirrors and tinted walls slowly crept in place of ivy and crumbling
bricks. A faint glow grew stronger and more intense until it filled
the great room with a dazzling light.

Then came softly into view a table of curious form, set out with flowers
and innumerable dishes of glass and porcelain, as for a feast.

Standing about the room he saw solemn men with beardless faces, all in
black attire, whose garments bore triangular openings upon the chest
to show the shirt beneath. These personages he soon discovered were
servants.

As he gazed in bewilderment, there entered other figures, two by two,
who took their seats about the table. These later comers, sixty or
more, were men and women walking arm in arm, the women in rich attire
of unfamiliar fashion and sparkling with precious stones. The men were
clad like the servants.

They ate and drank and laughed, and formed a brilliant scene.
Lev-el-Hedyd rose to his feet, and moved by a curiosity he made no
effort to resist,--for he is a reckless fellow and knows no fear--he
hobbled out into the room.

They looked upon him in surprise, and seemed much amused at his
presence. One of the guests, a tall youth with yellow mustaches,
approached him, offering a delicate crystal vessel filled with a
sparkling fluid.

Lev-el-Hedyd took it.

The youth raised another from the table and with a slight gesture as
if in salutation, he said in words which my comrade understood, though
he swears it was a language unknown to him,

"We may meet again the fourth of next month."

He then drank the wine, and so did Lev-el-Hedyd.

Hereupon the others smiled as if at their comrade's wit, all save the
women, whose tender faces spoke more of pity than of mirth. The wine
flew to his brain as he drank it, and things about him seemed to reel
and spin. Strains of fantastic music burst upon his ears: then, all in
rhythm, the women joined their partners and whirled about him with a
lightsome step. And