g on her knees beside him, and
resting his head tenderly on her shoulder, "there are many who love you
in the city. Escape over the terraces to the house of Jacob the Jew.
He has many hiding-places, and will assuredly aid you."

"I will try, for _your_ sake, Ashweesha," said Achmet, starting up; "I
have little hope, it is true, for my enemies are too strong for me, but
it were cowardly to fail for want of an effort. Allah bless thee, my
wife!"

He kissed her, and immediately made for the staircase that led to the
terrace.

Gaining the roof, he looked over the parapet, and the first glance was
enough to convince him that he must bid adieu to hope. The palace was
completely surrounded by the insurgents, who set up a fierce shout on
observing him, and fired a volley of balls from many directions, all of
which, however, passed harmlessly over his head.

"Thou seest, Ashweesha," he said, with a sad smile, as the Sultana
followed him to the terrace, "my time has come. It is fate. Allah has
willed it so--there is therefore no possibility of averting it."

"Say not so," cried Ashweesha earnestly; "the terrace of Jacob is easily
gained; once there you can descend to some of the back streets where no
one looks for you."

"I will make the attempt," said the Dey, sternly casting his eyes over
the city.

It was a sight that might well lull him with sad thoughts, for the roofs
or terraces everywhere were covered with affrighted women--the houses of
the Jews being especially distinguishable by the frantic manner in which
the Jewesses wrung their hands, and otherwise displayed their grief and
alarm.

A plank thrown from the parapet of his palace to that of the nearest
house enabled Achmet to escape from those of his enemies who had gained
an entrance below, but it was only a momentary respite; while they were
searching for another plank to enable them to follow him, he attempted
to cross over to the house of the Jew above mentioned. He was at once
observed, on the frail bridge that supported him, and a shout of anger
rose from the populace like a hoarse roar.

During the whole time in which the Dey was thus endeavouring to escape,
his proud spirit fought against him, urging him to turn and dare his
foes to do their worst. At the moment when their roar burst upon his
ear, all desire to escape seemed to vanish. He stopped suddenly, drew
himself up with his wonted look of dignified composure, and from his
perilous and