power; wickeder than you, he deceived me; and I would have crushed him
that I might have continued to deceive and rule the puppets that ye call
your chiefs. But they for whom I toiled, and laboured, and sinned--for
whom I surrendered peace and ease, yea, and a daughter's person and a
daughter's blood--they have betrayed me to your hands, and the Curse of
Old rests with them evermore--Amen! The disguise is rent: Almamen, the
santon, is the son of Issachar the Jew!"

More might he have said, but the spell was broken. With a ferocious
yell, those living waves of the multitude rushed over the stern fanatic;
six cimiters passed through him, and he fell not: at the seventh he was a
corpse. Trodden in the clay--then whirled aloft--limb torn from limb,--
ere a man could have drawn breath nine times, scarce a vestige of the
human form was left to the mangled and bloody clay.

One victim sufficed to slake the wrath of the crowd. They gathered like
wild beasts whose hunger is appeased, around their monarch, who in vain
had endeavored to stay their summary revenge, and who now, pale and
breathless, shrank from the passions he had excited. He faltered forth a
few words of remonstrance and exhortation, turned the head of his steed,
and took his way to his palace.

The crowd dispersed, but not yet to their homes. The crime of Almamen
worked against his whole race. Some rushed to the Jews' quarter, which
they set on fire; others to the lonely mansion of Almamen.

Ximen, on quitting the king, had been before the mob. Not anticipating
such an effect of the popular rage, he had hastened to the house, which
he now deemed at length his own. He had just reached the treasury of his
dead lord--he had just feasted his eyes on the massive ingots and