“Little impertinent,” said he, “whence got you false keys? or are you beloved of some Genius that hath given you a pick-lock?  I will try the extent of your power; come, to your chamber! through the two skylights; and expect not the company of Gulchenrouz; be expeditious!  I will shut you up in the double tower.”

At these menaces Nouronihar indignantly raised her head, opened on Shaban her black eyes, which, since the important dialogue of the enchanted grot, were considerably enlarged, and said:  “Go, speak thus to slaves, but learn to reverence her who is born to give laws, and subject all to her power.”

She was proceeding in the same style, but was interrupted by a sudden exclamation of “The Caliph!  The Caliph!” The curtains at once were thrown open, and the slaves prostrate in double rows, whilst poor little Gulchenrouz hid himself beneath the elevation of a sofa.  At first appeared a file of black eunuchs, trailing after them long trains of muslin embroidered with gold, and holding in their hands censers, which dispensed as they passed the grateful perfume of the wood of aloes; next marched Bababalouk with a solemn strut, and tossing his head as not over-pleased at the visit; Vathek came close after, superbly robed; his gait was unembarrassed and noble, and his presence would have engaged admiration, though he had not been the sovereign of the world; he approached Nouronihar with a throbbing heart, and seemed enraptured at the full effulgence of her radiant eyes, of which he had before caught but a few glimpses; but she instantly depressed them, and her confusion augmented her beauty.

Bababalouk, who was a thorough adept in coincidences of this nature, and knew that the worst game should be played with the best face, immediately made a signal for all to retire; and no sooner did he perceive beneath the sofa the little one’s feet, than he drew him forth without ceremony, set him upon his shoulders, and lavished on him as he went off a thousand odious caresses; Gulchenrouz cried out, and resisted till his cheeks became the colour of the blossom of the pomegranate, and the tears that started into his eyes shot forth a gleam of indignation; he cast a significant glance at Nouronihar, which the Caliph noticing, asked:  “Is that then your Gulchenrouz?”

“Sovereign of the world?” answered she, “spare my cousin, whose innocence and gentleness deserve not your anger.”

“Take comfort,” said Vathek, with a smile; “he is in good hands.  Bababalouk is fond of children, and never goes without sweetmeats and comfits.”

The daughter of Fakreddin was abashed, and suffered Gulchenrouz to be borne away without adding a word.  The tumult of her bosom betrayed her confusion; and Vathek, becoming still more impassioned, gave a loose to his frenzy, which had only not subdued the last faint strugglings of reluctance, when the Emir, suddenly bursting in, threw his face upon the ground at the feet of the Caliph, and said: