as then escorted through the gates, into the City, up to
the citadel, where I was awaited by their Princess. And she, taking a
necklace of cowries from a bag that hung on her breast, placed it on
my head, saying, 'I crown thee King of--' But I could not hear the
rest, which was drowned by the cheering of the multitudes. And the
cheering, O Shakib, was drowned by the hose of the sailors. Oh, that
hose! Is it not made in the paradise you harp upon, the paradise we
are coming to? Never, therefore, mention it to me more."

This is the dream, at once simple and symbolic, which begins to worry
Khalid. "For in the evening of the day he related it to me," writes
Shakib, "I found him sitting on the edge of his bunk brooding over I
know not what. It was the first time he had the blues. Nay, it was the
first time he looked pensive and profound. And upon asking him the
reason for this, he said, 'I am thinking of the paper-boats which I
used to sail down the stream in Baalbek, and that makes me sad.'"

How strange! And yet, this first event recorded by our Scribe, in
which Khalid is seen struggling with the mysterious and unknown, is
most significant. Another instance, showing a latent phase, hitherto
dormant, in his character, we note. Among the steerage passengers is a
Syrian girl who much resembles his cousin Najma. She was sea-sick
throughout the voyage, and when she comes out to breathe of the fresh
air, a few hours before they enter the harbour of New York, Khalid
sees her, and Shakib swears that he saw a tear in Khalid's eye as he
stood there gazing upon her. Poor Khalid! For though we are
approaching the last station of the Via Dolorosa, though we are
nearing the enchanted domes of the wonder-working, wealth-worshipping
City, he is inexplicably sad.

And Shakib, directly after swearing that he saw a tear in his eye,
writes the following: "Up to this time I observed in my friend only
the dominating traits of a hard-headed, hard-hearted boy, stubborn,
impetuous, intractable. But from the time he related to me his dream,
a change in his character was become manifest. In fact a new phase was
being gradually unfolded. Three things I must emphasise in this
connection: namely, the first dream he dreamt in a foreign land, the
first time he looked pensive and profound, and the first tear he shed
before we entered New York. These are keys to the secret chamber of
one's soul."

And now, that the doors, by virtue of our Scribe's ope