at Damiat. Shall we knock at the door, and
pretend to be strangers, and ask for
hospitality? Perhaps we may see the maiden by
accident, and if not, we can exert authority."
The good King forbade Mansour to use any
means but cunning; but, without reflecting
that part of his secret was now discovered,
consented to the proposed stratagem.

Mansour smote the door of the house, and
it was presently opened by a black slave
girl, who screamed slightly at seeing them,
and would have closed it again. But
Mansour, standing on the threshold, prevented
her, and told the story he had prepared,
begging to be allowed to enter the courtyard,
and spend the night with his servants in the
takhtabosh. They had just arrived, he said,
and could find no lodging. The slave-girl
would not have allowed herself to be
persuaded, although the blackness of the speaker
was a recommendation to her, but another
woman came down the passage, and said that
her mistress had overheard the altercation,
and would by no means refuse hospitality to
strangers from Habesh. They accordingly
entered, and sat some time in the takhtabosh,
which is a great room, or rather alcove, opening
into the courtyard. The slave-girl brought
them a lamp, and presently afterwards asked
them if they would sup. Mansour and Kaad
who were hungry, instantly accepted the
offer, and although the young King, fearing to
give trouble, pulled them by the sleeve to
check them, they paid no attention to him.
Soon, therefore, the dishes were set before
them, and they ate. The King, it is true,
would have refrained, but in order to conceal
their own greediness, they persuaded him
that his abstinence would seem to be an
insult to the house.

Whilst the supper was going on, Salameh,
who was sole mistress in that house during
the absence of her father, came out into the
gallery opposite the takhtabosh, and being in
darkness herself, could see everything that
passed in the well-lighted chamber below.
The reason of the interest she felt in the
strangers was this: Naomi, whom she loved,
and to whom she was betrothed, had departed
with his father, a merchant, more than a year
before, to trade in Abyssinia, and since that
time no news of him had come. She rejoiced,
therefore, in this opportunity of conversing
with people from that country, and felt more
confidence than she would have done on
beholding the dignified mien of King
Zakariah. When the strangers, therefore, had
washed their hands, she ordered coffee to be
made, and descending, offered it first to
Mansour, and then to the King, and then to
Kaad. She took back the cups in the same
order, and kissed the hand first of the
eunuch, and afterwards of the King; but
Kaad, warned by a terrible glance of jealousy,
affected awkwardly to drop his cup. Then
Salameh sat down before the strangers, and
questioned them, addressing herself principally
to Zakariah. But the young King knew
little of foreign countries, whilst Mansour,
who was old, had travelled much, and could
support his character without chance of
discovery. It was the eunuch, therefore, who
replied, giving information on the history
and manners, and customs, and productions
of Abyssinia. At length Salameh asked if in
their travels they had met a young
merchant named Naomi. To this the King,
silencing his companions by a gesture,
replied, obeying the suggestions of an evil
spirit who whispered at his elbow: "Yea,
lady, we met that merchant two months ago,
in the desert of Dankah. He was proceeding
towards a port on the ocean, where he
intended to embark, and to sail with his wife,
the daughter of a king, for the isles of the
Indian ocean." He had scarcely uttered
these words, when Salameh rose to her feet
with a great cry, and then fell senseless on
the ground. The King, repentant of what
he had done, stepped forward to assist in
raising her; but her women came and took
her away, cursing him as the bearer of ill news.
Her veil, however, had fallen aside, and
Zakariah had seen that she was marvellously
beautiful. His heart burned with love and
jealousy; and without saying another word
he hastened forth into the street, followed by
his two companions.

A great change now came over the
character of Zakariah. He began to think
that moderation would be folly on his part,
or at any rate that the gentleness with
which he had exercised power until then,
would justify or excuse an act of violence
now. There could be no happiness for him
if Salameh were given to another. He
had but to speak the word and she would
be brought to his palace. The people, far
from blaming, would doubtless applaud.
Did they not every day besiege him with
wishes for his happiness? What would they
care for the grief of a bereaved father, or
the despair of an absent lover? His
exclusive devotion for Salameh would render
all fathers and lovers safe. Such were the
thoughts that passed through his mind; but
he could not summon courage to act. When,
however, he told his troubles to his mother,
she, in her absolute fondness for him, laughed
at his scruples, and issued orders, so that
one day the house of Gerges was surrounded,
he was sent into banishment, and Salameh
was brought a prisoner to a chamber of the
palace. Strict injunctions were given to the
watchers of the roads also to look out for
Naomi, and prevent his return even by
death.

When Salameh knew that among the sham
strangers who had visited her house, was the
King himself, and that it was he who had
spoken of the faithlessness of Naomi, she
understood that she had been deceived, and
was more than half consoled for the misfortune
that had befallen her. When Zakariah