"Willing? ... Aye! more than willing!" exclaimed Theos
enthusiastically--"But,--if I burden hospitality.."

"Burden!" and Sah-luma laughed--"Talk not of burdens to me!--I,
who have feasted kings, and made light of their entertaining!
Here," he added as he led the way through a broad alley, lined
with magnificent palms--"here is the entrance to my poor
dwelling!" and a sparkling, mischievous smile brightened his
features.--"There is room enough in it, methinks to hold thee,
even if thou hadst brought a retinue of slaves!"

He pointed before him as he spoke, and Theos stood for a moment
stock-still and overcome with astonishment, at the size and
splendor of the palace whose gates they were just approaching. It
was a dome-shaped building of the purest white marble, surrounded
on all sides by long, fluted colonnades, and fronted by spacious
court paved with mosaics, where eight flower-bordered fountains
dashed up to the hot, blue sky, incessant showers of refreshing
spray.

Into this court and across it, Sah-luma led his wondering guest, . .
ascending a wide flight of steps, they entered a vast open hall,
where the light poured in through rose-colored and pale blue
glass, that gave a strange yet lovely effect of mingled sunset and
moonlight to the scene. Here--reclining about on cushions of silk
and velvet--were several beautiful girls in various attitudes of
indolence and ease,--one laughing, black-haired houri was amusing
herself with a tame bird which flew to and from her uplifted
finger,--another in a half-sitting posture, played cup-and-ball