“My dear boy, for years I have hoped for a vision of the celestial, and now mine eyes have been directed to the approach of the great mahdi. In my dreams I heard a voice saying: ‘Go thou, and thou shalt be directed. The guides even are sleeping, but they shall awake and direct thee.’ Now did not this mean this youth and maiden? this brother and sister who were asleep and awaiting me?” “As you like, uncle. I will go with thee, for I love adventure; but I hope we shall return alive.” “Of that there is no doubt. Come, Effendi awaits us.” The caravan started. More than thirty camels were in procession; twelve of them carried baggage, tents, and provisions, the other eighteen bore upon their backs the bodyguard of Sherif el Habib. Max and Girzilla, still unconscious, were on the same camel, being fastened to basket paniers, one on either side of the animal. As the caravan moved across the sandy plain we will take the opportunity of more fully introducing the party to our readers. Sherif el Habib was a Persian. In Khorassan he was known as the most prosperous shawl manufacturer of all Persia. He gave employment to over a hundred men, and Sherif el Habib’s Persian shawls had been worn by the empresses and queens of the world. Sherif el Habib became a widower in a peculiar way. According to the custom of his land, he had several wives. In the palace of the Sherif--for this shawl manufacturer was ranked as a prince--every contrivance had been resorted to to render the happiness of the ladies complete. Among other things was a large marble bath, fifty feet long by thirty feet wide, and capable of holding fifteen feet of water in depth. By clever mechanical contrivances the supply of water was so nicely regulated that a stream to the depth of four feet was always flowing through the bath. This water was highly perfumed with attar of roses, and was so delicious to the senses that it was an intoxicating pleasure to bathe. One day the ladies of Sherif el Habib’s household were disporting themselves in the bath, when by some accident the working gear got out of order and the water began to rise. The ladies were not alarmed, for all were good swimmers. Gradually the water increased in volume until it was six feet deep. How merrily the ladies laughed! How delighted they were at this new experience! They could no longer touch the marble bottom of the bath. Like children paddling in the surf, they laughed and made fun of each other. They floated and swam about, dived and turned somersaults as though they were amphibious animals. The entrance to the bathroom was locked. It was water-tight, so that should Sherif el Habib at any time desire the whole fifteen feet of depth to be flooded, no water could escape into the other parts of the palace. When the ladies had grown weary they made a move to leave. But they were tired. The water was ten feet deep, and still rising.