en tube, they wrapped themselves in their
cloaks and sheepskins, and sunk into a deep and well-earned repose.

Within, the Sheikhs and mookatadgis gradually, by no means
simultaneously, followed their example. Some, taking off their turbans
and loosening their girdles, ensconced themselves under the arcades,
lying on their carpets, and covered with their pelisses and cloaks; some
strolled into the divaned chambers, which were open to all, and more
comfortably stowed themselves upon the well-stuffed cushions; others,
overcome with fatigue and their revel, were lying in deep sleep,
outstretched in the open court, and picturesque in the blazing
moonlight.

The hunting party was to last three days, and few intended to leave
Canobia on the morrow; but it must not be supposed that the guests
experienced any very unusual hardships in what the reader may consider a
far from satisfactory mode of passing their night. To say nothing of the
warm and benignant climate, the Easterns have not the custom of retiring
or rising with the formality of the Occidental nations. They take their
sleep when they require it, and meet its embrace without preparation.
One cause of this difference undoubtedly is, that the Orientals do not
connect the business of the toilet with that of rest. The daily bath,
with its elaborate processes, is the spot where the mind ponders on the
colour of a robe or the fashion of a turban; the daily bath, which is
the principal incident of Oriental habits, and which can scarcely be
said to exist among our own.

Fakredeen had yielded even his own chambers to his friends. Every divan
in Canobia was open, excepting the rooms of Tancred. These were sacred,
and the Emir had requested his friend to receive him as a guest during
the festival, and apportion him one of his chambers. The head of the
House of Talhook was asleep with the tube of his nargileh in his mouth;
the Yezbek had unwound his turban, cast off his sandals, wrapped himself
in his pelisses, and fairly turned in; Bishop Nicodemus was kneeling
in a corner and kissing a silver cross; and Hamood Abu-neked had rolled
himself up in a carpet, and was snoring as if he were blowing through
one of the horns of the Maronites. Fakredeen shot a glance at Tancred,
instantly recognised. Then, rising and giving the salaam of peace to
his guests, the Emir and his English friend made their escape down a
corridor, at the bottom of which was one of the few doors that could be