Once he thought he heard a flow of water. Was he mistaken? No; he soon found that on one side of the cellar, only separated by a very thin partition or wall of baked clay, ran the river Nile. Two narrow doors opened from the cellar to the river, but they were both fastened. “I may break one of these,” he said, “but not yet. I’m in for a good time, and I’ll have one.” Max discovered some broad steps leading to the upper story. They were made of the baked clay, and as hard as stone. He walked up them, and found a door at the top. Groping his way along by the wall, he came to some more steps which led to a long corridor. There was a feeble glimmer of light at the end of the hallway, and he followed that as his guide. Once he thought he heard voices, but made up his mind he was mistaken. There were no signs of anyone dwelling there, everything was deserted and desolate. He had no particular desire to meet anyone, his whole thoughts being now bent on escape. He reached the end of the corridor, and found that the little ray of light proceeded from a transom over another door. That door he pushed open, and saw before him another flight of stairs. “Up, up, up!” he ejaculated. “Well, never mind, if I only get out at last.” He ascended the stairs, and at the top another door confronted him. He opened that, and nearly fell backward at the sight which met his gaze. No scene in the “Arabian Nights” could compare with the beauty and grandeur of what he saw. The room was a hundred feet long, by half as many feet wide. The walls were hung with silk and tapestry of the most exquisite patterns and quality. The floor was covered an inch thick with padded carpets. Great chandeliers with oil lamps, each one having a different tinted shade, shed a brilliant light over the scene. But that was not all. Round the great room were divans covered with the most costly silks. And on each divan reposed, in Oriental languor, a beauteous woman. Each woman had a little table by her side, on which cigarettes and sherbet were placed. Many of them were smoking the most fragrant tobacco Max had ever sniffed. He had not been seen, and so he stood watching without the beauteous creatures having any idea that their privacy had been invaded. But his eyes recognized on one of the divans the girl Lalla. Why should he not go to her? He was an American, and knew no fear. He walked down the center of the room, and instantly there was a shriek--a tiny little scream--and a flutter of a score of beauties. But no sooner had they screamed than they felt sorry for it, for never before had any man save their lord entered the grand _salon_ of the harem, and the novelty was refreshing. Each one pressed forward to touch the American, and some offered to hide him. There was a noise outside, and Lalla took Max by the shoulders and pushed him behind the drapery which covered the walls. She was only just in time. Three eunuchs entered.