spoken to Zeenab, or
even to have observed her at a distance! But I knew that it would not be
prudent to ask many questions concerning her, as suspicions, dangerous
both to her and me, might arise, and probably involve us in immediate
ruin. Indeed, had I been inclined to give myself much stir on the
subject, it would have been to no purpose; for very shortly after I
heard the salute fired from the _Zamburek_ camels, which indicated that
the Shah had alighted from his horse.

After he had smoked one pipe in his hall of state, and had dismissed the
courtiers who attended him, he retired to the harem.

Upon his entrance there, I heard the songs of the women, accompanied by
tambourines, guitars, and little drums, rending the air as they walked
in procession before him. Well did I listen with all my ears to discover
Zeenab's voice; but every endeavour was baffled, and I remained in a
disagreeable state of vibration betwixt hope and fear, until a hasty
order was issued for my old master, Mirza Ahmak, the king's physician,
to appear immediately before the Shah. Combinations of the mind in all
matters of deep interest are formed as quick as thought, and act like
the foretellings of prophecy. When I heard that the hakim was sent for,
a cold thrill ran through my veins, and I said to myself, 'Zeenab is
lost for ever!'

He came, was soon dismissed, and seeing me at the door of the harem,
took me on one side, and said, 'Hajji, the Shah is much enraged. You
remember the Curdish slave, which I presented to him at the festival of
the No Ruz. She has not appeared among the dancing-women, and pretends
to be ill. He loves her, and had set his heart upon seeing her. He has
called me to account for her conduct, as if I could control the caprice
of this daughter of the devil; and says, that if he does not find her in
full health and beauty when he reaches the ark (the palace), which will
be on the next best fortunate hour, he will pluck my beard out by the
roots. Curse the unlucky moment which made her my slave; and still more
the hour when I first invited the Shah into my house.'

Upon this he left me, to set off immediately for Tehran, whilst I
retired to my tent, to ruminate over the horrid fate that awaited this
unfortunate girl. I endeavoured to rally my spirits by the hope that
perhaps she was actually ill, and that it had been impossible for her to
appear before the king; and then I consoled myself with the idea, that
if my fear