to him and to thy last move. There's the dirhem, I
can play no more. May I slay my mother, though, but I did not think he
would let himself be taken.'

'By the blessing of my father, nor I; but then he was asleep.'

'That makes a difference. He was betrayed.'

'All brave men are. They say Kisloch and his set pocket their fifty
thousand by the job.'

'May each dirhem prove a plague-spot!'

'Amen! Dost remember Abner?'

'May I slay my mother if I ever forget him. He spoke to his men like so
many lambs. What has become of the Lady Miriam?'

'She is here.'

'That will cut Alroy.'

'He was ever fond of her. Dost remember she gained Adoram's life?'

'Oh! she could do anything next to the Queen.'

'Before her, I say, before her. He has refused the Queen, he never
refused the Lady Miriam.'

'Because she asked less.'

'Dost know it seemed to me that things never went on so well after
Jabaster's death?'

'So say I. There was a something, eh?'

'A sort of a peculiar, as it were, kind of something, eh?'

'You have well described it. Every man felt the same. I have often
mentioned it to my comrades. Say what you like, said I, but slay my
mother if ever since the old man strangled himself, things did not seem,
as it were, in their natural propinquity. 'Twas the phrase I used.'

'A choice one. Unless there is a natural propinquity, the best-arranged
matters will fall out. However, the ass sees farther than his rider, and
so it was with Alroy, the best commander I ever served under, all the
same.'

'Let us go forth and see how affairs run.'

'Ay, do. If we hear any one abuse Alroy, we'll cleave his skull.'

'That will we. There are a good many of our stout fellows about; we
might do something yet.'

'Who knows?'

A subterranean dungeon of the citadel of Bagdad held in its gloomy
limits the late lord of Asia. The captive did not sigh, or weep, or
wail. He did not speak. He did not even think. For several days he
remained in a state of stupor. On the morning of the fourth day, he
almost unconsciously partook of the wretched provision which his gaolers
brought him. Their torches, round which the bats whirled and flapped
their wings, and twinkled their small eyes, threw a ghastly glare over
the nearer walls of the dungeon, the extremity of which defied the
vision of the prisoner; and, when the gaolers retired, Alroy was in
complete darkness.

The image of the past came back to him. He tried in vain to penetr