While they were thus employed, an opposite curtain to that by which they
had entered was drawn aside, and a woman advanced, and whispered some
words to the lady, who seemed to signify her assent. Immediately, a tall
negro of Dongola, richly habited in a flowing crimson vest, and with
a large silver collar round his neck, entered the hall, and, after the
usual salutations of reverence to the lady, spoke earnestly in a low
voice. The lady listened with great attention, and then, taking out her
tablets from her girdle, she wrote a few words and gave a leaf to the
tall negro, who bowed and retired. Then she waved her hand, and the
maiden who was reading closed her book, rose, and, pressing her hand to
her heart, retired.
It seemed that the young Emir had arrived at the pavilion, and prayed
that, without a moment's delay, he might speak with the Lady of Bethany.
The curtain was again withdrawn, a light step was heard, the young man
who had recently passed Tancred on the road to Jerusalem bounded into
the room.
'How is the Rose of Sharon?' he exclaimed. He threw himself at her feet,
and pressed the hem of her garment to his lips with an ecstasy which
it would have been difficult for a bystander to decide whether it were
mockery or enthusiasm, or genuine feeling, which took a sportive air to
veil a devotion which it could not conceal, and which it cared not too
gravely to intimate.
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