f one prodigious stone. The iron portal opening displayed a
covered way cut out of the rock, and broad enough to permit the entrance
of two horsemen abreast. This way was of considerable length, and so
dark that they were obliged to be preceded by torch-bearers. Thence they
issued into a large courtyard, the sunshine of which was startling and
almost painful, after their late passage. The court was surrounded by
buildings of different styles and proportions; the further end, and, as
it were, centre of the whole, being a broad, square, and stunted brick
tower, immediately behind which rose the granite peaks of the mountains.

There were some horsemen in the court, and many attendants on foot, who
came forward and assisted the guests to alight. Tancred and Fakredeen
did not speak, but exchanged glances which expressed their secret
thoughts. Perhaps they were of the same opinion as Baroni, that,
difficult as it was to arrive there, it might not be more easy to
return. However, God is great! a consolatory truth that had sustained
Baroni under many trials.

They were ushered into a pavilion at the side of the court, and thence
into a commodious divan, which opened upon another and smaller court, in
which were some acacia trees. As usual, pipes and coffee were brought.
Baroni was outside, with the other attendant, stowing away the luggage.
A man plainly but neatly dressed, slender and wrinkled, with a stooping
gait but a glittering eye, came into the chamber, and, in a hushed
voice, with many smiles, much humility, but the lurking air of a master,
welcomed them to Gindarics. Then, seating himself on the divan, he
clapped his hands, and an attendant brought him his nargileh.

'I presume,' said Tancred, 'that the Emir and myself have the honour of
conversing with the Lord Keferinis.' Thus he addressed this celebrated
eunuch, who is prime minister of the Queen of the Ansarey.

'The Prince of England,' replied Keferinis, bowing, and speaking in a
very affected voice, and in a very affected manner, 'must not expect
the luxuries of the world amid these mountains. Born in London, which
is surrounded by the sea, and with an immense slave population at your
command, you have advantages with which the Ansarey cannot compete,
unjustly deprived, as they have been, of their port; and unable, in
the present diminished supply of the markets, to purchase slaves as
heretofore from the Turkmans and the Kurds.'

'I suppose the Russians inte