never been wanting to deface them, and in many places they had been lime-
washed and scrawled with Christian symbols or very unchristian mottoes,
in Greek and the spoken dialect of the Egyptians. The Arab and his men
took their meal in what had been the great hall of the temple--none of
them drinking wine excepting the captain of the caravan, who was no
Moslem but belonged to the Parsee sect of the Masdakites.

When the old merchant, sitting at a table by himself, had satisfied his
hunger, he called this chief and desired him to load the bale containing
the hanging on a litter between the two largest baggage camels, and to
fasten it securely but so that it could easily be removed.

"It is done," replied the Persian, as he wiped his thick moustache--he
was a magnificent man as tall and stalwart as an oak, with light flowing
hair like a lion's mane.

"So much the better," said Haschim. "Then come out with me." And he led
the way to the palmgrove.

The sun had sunk to rest behind the pyramids, the Necropolis, and the
Libyan hills; the eastern sky, and the bare limestone rock of Babylon on
the opposite shore were shining with hues of indescribable diversity and
beauty. It seemed as though every variety of rose reared by the skilled
gardeners of Arsinoe or Naukratis had yielded its hues, from golden buff
to crimson and the deepest wine-tinted violet, to shed their magic glow
on the plains, the peaks and gorges of the hills, with the swiftness of
thought.

The old man's heart beat high as he gazed at the scene; he drew a deep
breath, and laying his slender hand on the Persian's mighty arm he said: