sheet of silver on one side of the city. The green breast of the
contiguous hills sparkled with white houses.

"Behold Croia!" exclaimed Iskander. "Our old fathers could choose a
site, comrades. We shall see whether they expended their time and
treasure for strangers, or their own seed." So saying, he spurred his
horse, and with panting hearts and smiling faces, Iskander and his
company had soon arrived in the vicinity of the city.

The city was surrounded by a beautiful region of corn-fields and fruit-
trees. The road was arched with the over-hanging boughs. The birds
chirped on every spray. It was a blithe and merry morn. Iskander
plucked a bunch of olives as he cantered along. "Dear friends," he
said, looking round with an inspiring smile, "let us gather our first
harvest!" And, thereupon, each putting forth his rapid hand, seized,
as he rushed by, the emblem of possession, and following the example of
his leader, placed it in his cap.

They arrived at the gates of the city, which was strongly garrisoned;
and Iskander, followed by his train, galloped up the height of the
citadel. Alighting from his horse, he was ushered into the divan of
the governor, an ancient Pacha, who received the conqueror of Caramania
with all the respect that became so illustrious a champion of the
Crescent. After the usual forms of ceremonious hospitality, Iskander,
with a courteous air presented him the order for delivering up the
citadel; and the old Pacha, resigning himself to the loss of his post
with Oriental submission, instantly delivered the keys of the citadel
and town to Iskander, and requested permission immediately to quit the
scene of his late command.