ascending scale, struck sweetly through the clamor. A youth,
arrayed in crimson, and carrying a small golden harp, marched
sedately between the serried ranks that parted right and left at
his approach,--thus clearing the way for another personage who
followed him,--a graceful, Adonis-like personage in glistening
white attire, who wore a myrtle-wreath on his dark, abundant
locks, and whom the populace--forgetting for a moment the cause of
their recent disturbance--greeted with a ringing and ecstatic
shout of "HAIL! SAH-LUMA!"

Again and again this cry was uplifted, till far away on the
extreme outskirts of the throng the joyous echo of it was repeated
faintly yet distinctly ... "HAIL! HAIL, SAH-LUMA!"




CHAPTER XII.

SAH-LUMA.


The new-comer thus enthusiastically welcomed bowed right and left,
with a condescending air, in response to the general acclamation,
and advancing to the spot where Theos stood, an enforced prisoner
in the close grip of three or four able-bodied citizens, he said:

"What turbulence is here? By my faith! ... when I heard the noise
of quarrelsome contention jarring the sweetness of this nectarous
noon, methought I was no longer in Al-Kyris, but rather in some