little Eldorado,
so snugly hidden away in the lower story of a commonplace hotel. Perhaps
you are surprised at finding me here, too. But come out into the air,
your hookah is blazing, and so are the stars."

I followed him into the verandah, where the long cane chairs of the
country were placed, and taking the tube of the pipe from the solemn
Mussulman whose duty it was to prepare it, I stretched myself out in
that indolent lazy peace which is only to be enjoyed in tropical
countries. Silent and for the nonce perfectly happy, I slowly inhaled
the fragrant vapour of tobacco and aromatic herbs and honey with which
the hookah is filled. No sound save the monotonous bubbling and
chuckling of the smoke through the water, or the gentle rustle of the
leaves on the huge rhododendron-tree which reared its dusky branches to
the night in the middle of the lawn. There was no moon, though the stars
were bright and clear, the foaming path of the milky way stretching
overhead like the wake of some great heavenly ship; a soft mellow lustre
from the lamps in Isaacs' room threw a golden stain half across the
verandah, and the chafing dish within, as the light breeze fanned the
coals, sent out a little cloud of perfume which mingled pleasantly with
the odour of the _chillum_ in the pipe. The turbaned servant squatted on
the edge of the steps at a little distance, peering into the dusk, as
Indians will do for hours together. Isaacs lay quite still in his chair,
his hands above his head, the light through the open door just falling
on the jeweled mouthpiece of his narghyle. He sighed--a sigh only half
regretful, half contented, and seemed about to speak, but the spirit did
not move him, and the profound silence continued. For my part, I was so
much absorbed in my reflections on the things I had seen that I had
nothing to say, and the strange personality of the man made me wish to
let him begin upon his own subject, if perchance I might gain some
insight into his mind and mode of thought. There are times when silence
seems to be sacred, even unaccountably so. A feeling is in us that to
speak would be almost a sacrilege, though we are unable to account in
any way for the pause. At such moments every one seems instinctively to
feel the same influence, and the first person who breaks the spell
either experiences a sensation of awkwardness, and says something very
foolish, or, conscious of the odds against him, delivers himself of a
sentiment o