at hand which they call Croia, and in which once, as the rumour runs,
the son of my father should not have had to go seek for an entrance.
No matter. Methinks, worthy Mousa, thou art the only man in our
society that can sign thy name. Come now, write me an order signed
Karam Bey to the governor of this said city, for its delivery up to the
valiant champion of the Crescent, Iskander, and thou shalt ride in
future at a pace more suitable to a secretary."

The worthy Mousa humbled himself to the ground, and then talking his
writing materials from his girdle, inscribed the desired order, and
delivered it to Iskander, who, glancing at the inscription, pushed it
into his vest.

"I shall proceed at once to Croia, with a few friends," said Iskander;
"do you, my bold companions, follow me this eve in various parties, and
in various routes. At dead of the second night, collect in silence
before the gates of Croia!"

Thus speaking, Iskander called for his now refreshed charger, and,
accompanied by two hundred horsemen, bade farewell for a brief period
to his troops, and soon having crossed the mountains, descended into
the fertile plains of Epirus.

When the sun rose in the morning, Iskander and his friends beheld at
the further end of the plain a very fine city shining in the light. It
was surrounded with lofty turreted walls flanked by square towers, and
was built upon a gentle eminence, which gave it a very majestic
appearance. Behind it rose a lofty range of purple mountains of very
picturesque form, and the highest peaks capped with snow. A noble
lake, from which troops of wild fowl occasionally rose, expanded like a