“Why, so!” returned Sah-luma, his brilliant eyes flashing with undisguised pleasure,—­“An’ thou thinkest thus of me we shall be firm and fast companions!  Thou hast spoken well and not without good instruction—­I perceive my fame hath reached thee in thine own ocean-girdled lands, where music is as rare as sunshine.  Right glad am I that chance has thrown us together, for now thou wilt be better able to judge of my unrivalled master-skill in sweet word-weaving!  Thou must abide with me for all the days of thy sojourn here. ...  Art willing?”

“Willing? ...  Aye! more than willing!” exclaimed Theos enthusiastically—­“But,—­if I burden hospitality..”

“Burden!” and Sah-luma laughed—­“Talk not of burdens to me!—­I, who have feasted kings, and made light of their entertaining!  Here,” he added as he led the way through a broad alley, lined with magnificent palms—­“here is the entrance to my poor dwelling!” and a sparkling, mischievous smile brightened his features.—­“There is room enough in it, methinks to hold thee, even if thou hadst brought a retinue of slaves!”

He pointed before him as he spoke, and Theos stood for a moment stock-still and overcome with astonishment, at the size and splendor of the palace whose gates they were just approaching.  It was a dome-shaped building of the purest white marble, surrounded on all sides by long, fluted colonnades, and fronted by spacious court paved with mosaics, where eight flower-bordered fountains dashed up to the hot, blue sky, incessant showers of refreshing spray.

Into this court and across it, Sah-luma led his wondering guest, . . ascending a wide flight of steps, they entered a vast open hall, where the light poured in through rose-colored and pale blue glass, that gave a strange yet lovely effect of mingled sunset and moonlight to the scene.  Here—­reclining about on cushions of silk and velvet—­were several beautiful girls in various attitudes of indolence and ease,—­one laughing, black-haired houri was amusing herself with a tame bird which flew to and from her uplifted finger,—­another in a half-sitting posture, played cup-and-ball with much active and graceful dexterity,—­some were working at gold and silver embroidery,—­others, clustered in a semicircle round a large osier basket filled with myrtle, were busy weaving garlands of the fragrant leaves,—­and one maiden, seemingly younger than the rest, and of lighter and more delicate complexion, leaned somewhat pensively against an ebony-framed harp, as though she were considering what sad or suggestive chords she should next awaken from its responsive strings.  As Sah-luma and Theos appeared, these nymphs all rose from their different occupations and amusements, and stood with bent heads and folded hands in statuesque silence and humility.