The floor was covered with a carpet, the walls with brilliant hangings;
the bed and windows were shrouded by curtains of a rich texture and
glossy hues. Hitherto I had merely read of these things. I knew them to
be the decorations of opulence; and yet, as I viewed them, and
remembered where and what I was on the same hour the preceding day, I
could scarcely believe myself awake, or that my senses were not beguiled
by some spell.

"Where," said I, "will this adventure terminate? I rise on the morrow
with the dawn and speed into the country. When this night is remembered,
how like a vision will it appear! If I tell the tale by a kitchen-fire,
my veracity will be disputed. I shall be ranked with the story-tellers
of Shiraz and Bagdad."

Though busied in these reflections, I was not inattentive to the
progress of time. Methought my companion was remarkably dilatory. He
went merely to relight his candle, but certainly he might, during this
time, have performed the operation ten times over. Some unforeseen
accident might occasion his delay.

Another interval passed, and no tokens of his coming. I began now to
grow uneasy. I was unable to account for his detention. Was not some
treachery designed? I went to the door, and found that it was locked.
This heightened my suspicions. I was alone, a stranger, in an upper room
of the house. Should my conductor have disappeared, by design or by
accident, and some one of the family should find me here, what would be
the consequence? Should I not be arrested as a thief, and conveyed to
prison? My transition from the street to this chamber would not be more
rapid than my passage hence to a jail.