his youth he had been eminently handsome, and even in age was
unwilling to appear less so. His episcopal dress was of the
richest fashion, trimmed with costly fur, and surrounded by a
cope of curious needlework. The rings on his fingers were worth
a goodly barony, and the hood which he wore, though now unclasped
and thrown back for heat, had studs of pure gold to fasten it
around his throat and under his chin when he so inclined. His
long beard, now silvered with age, descended over his breast.
One of two youthful acolytes who attended him created an
artificial shade, peculiar then to the East, by bearing over his
head an umbrella of palmetto leaves, while the other refreshed
his reverend master by agitating a fan of peacock-feathers.

When the Bishop of Tyre entered the hut of the Scottish knight,
the master was absent, and the Moorish physician, whom he had
come to see, sat in the very posture in which De Vaux had left
him several hours before, cross-legged upon a mat made of twisted
leaves, by the side of the patient, who appeared in deep slumber,
and whose pulse he felt from time to time. The bishop remained
standing before him in silence for two or three minutes, as if
expecting some honourable salutation, or at least that the
Saracen would seem struck with the dignity of his appearance.
But Adonbec el Hakim took no notice of him beyond a passing
glance, and when the prelate at length saluted him in the lingua
franca current in the country, he only replied by the ordinary
Oriental greeting, "SALAM ALICUM--Peace be with you."

"Art thou a physician, infidel?" said the bishop, somewhat
mortified at this cold reception. "I would speak with thee on
that art."