'It was needless. We war not with women.'

'Men, as well as women, must acknowledge the gracious mercy of your highness.'

'Benomi,' said Alroy, addressing himself to a young officer of the guard, 'command the guard of honour that will attend this n.o.ble emir on his return. We soldiers deal only in iron, sir, and cannot vie with the magnificence of Bagdad, yet wear this dagger for the donor's sake:' and Alroy held out to Honain a poniard flaming with gems.

The Envoy of Bagdad advanced, took the dagger, pressed it to his lips, and placed it in his vest.[64]

'Scherirah,' continued Alroy, 'this n.o.ble emir is your charge. See that a choice pavilion of the host be for his use, and that his train complain not of the rough customs of our camp.'

'May it please your highness,' replied Honain, 'I have fulfilled my office, and, with your gracious permission, would at once return. I have business only less urgent than the present, because it concerns myself.'

'As you will, n.o.ble emir. Benomi, to your post. Farewell, sir.'

The deputation advanced, bowed, and retired. Alroy turned to Jabaster.

'No common person that, Jabaster?'

'A very gracious Turk, sire.'

'Think you he is a Turk?'

'By his dress.'

'It may be so. Asriel, break up the camp. We'll march at once to Bagdad.'

The chiefs dispersed to make the necessary arrangements for the march.

The news that the army was immediately to advance to Bagdad soon circulated throughout the camp, and excited the most lively enthusiasm.

Every hand was at work, striking the tents, preparing the arms and horses. Alroy retired to his pavilion. The curtains were drawn. He was alone, and plunged in profound meditation.

'Alroy!' a voice sounded.

He started, and looked up. Before him stood Esther the prophetess.

'Esther! is it thou?'

'Alroy! enter not into Babylon.'

'Indeed.'

'As I live, the Lord hath spoken it. Enter not into Babylon.'

'Not enjoy my fairest conquest, maiden?'

'Enter not into Babylon.'

'What affrights thee?'

'Enter not into Babylon.'

'I shall surely change the fortunes of my life without a cause.'

'The Lord hath spoken. Is not that a cause?'

'I am the Lord's anointed. His warning has not reached me.'

'Now it reaches thee. Doth the king despise the prophetess of the Lord?

It is the sin of Ahab.'

'Despise thee! Despise the mouth that is the herald of my victories!

'Twere rank blasphemy. Prophesy triumph, Esther, and Alroy will never doubt thy inspiration.'

'He doubts it now. I see he doubts it now. O my king, I say again, enter not into Babylon.'

'Beauteous maiden, those eyes flash lightning. Who can behold their wild and liquid glance, and doubt that Esther is inspired! Be calm, sweet girl, some dream disturbs thy fancy.'

'Alroy, Alroy, enter not into Babylon!'

'I have no fear, I bear a charmed life.'

'Ah me! he will not listen.' All is lost!'

'All is gained, my beautiful.'

'I would we were upon the Holy Mount, and gazing on the stars of sacred Zion.'

'Esther,' said Alroy, advancing, and gently taking her hand, 'the capital of the East will soon unfold its marvels to thy sight. Prepare thyself for wonders. Girl, we are no longer in the desert. Forget thy fitful fancies. Come, choose a husband from my generals, child, and I will give a kingdom for thy dower. I would gladly see a crown upon that imperial brow. It well deserves one.'

The prophetess turned her dark eyes full upon Alroy. What pa.s.sed in her mind was neither evident nor expressed. She gazed intently upon the calm and inscrutable countenance of the conqueror, then flung away his hand, and rushed out of the pavilion.

CHAPTER VIII.

_Bagdad and the Princess_

THE waving of banners, the flourish of trumpets, the neighing of steeds, and the glitter of spears! On the distant horizon they gleam like the morning, when the gloom of the night shivers bright into day. Hark!

the tramp of the foemen, like the tide of the ocean, flows onward and onward, and conquers the sh.o.r.e. From the brow of the mountain, like the rush of a river, the column defiling melts into the plain.

Warriors of Judah! holy men that battle for the Lord! The land wherein your fathers wept, and touched their plaintive psalteries; the haughty city where your sires bewailed their cold and distant hearths; your steeds are prancing on its plain, and you shall fill its palaces.

Warriors of Judah! holy men that battle for the Lord!

March, onward march, ye valiant tribes, the hour has come, the hour has come! All the promises of ages, all the signs of sacred sages, meet in this ravishing hour. Where is now the oppressor's chariot, where your tyrant's purple robe? The horse and the rider are both overthrown, the horse and the rider are both overthrown!

Rise, Rachel, from thy wilderness, arise, and weep no more. No more thy lonely palm-tree's shade need shroud thy secret sorrowing. The Lord hath heard the widow's sigh, the Lord hath stilled the widow's tear. Be comforted, be comforted, thy children live again!

Yes! yes! upon the bounding plain fleet Asriel glances like a star, and stout Scherirah shakes his spear by stern Jabaster's scimitar. And He is there, the chosen one, hymned by prophetic harps, whose life is like the morning dew on Zion's holy hill: the chosen one, the chosen one, that leads his race to victory; warriors of Judah! holy men that battle for the Lord!

They come, they come, they come!