From where he was he could see nothing of it. Indeed, the base of the mountain was eight miles distant, and the city, parched upon its summit, could only be approached from the opposite side by a path that was almost inaccessible. Yet hour after hour the rapid firing continued, and it was evident a most desperate battle was being fought. This puzzled him, for had not Kheira said that the city was totally undefended? Still, the tumult of battle served to prevent him from lapsing into unconsciousness; and not until the sun sank in a brilliant, blood-red blaze did the firing cease. Then all grew silent again. The hot poison-wind from the desert caused the feathery heads of the palms to wave like funeral plumes, and night crept on. The horrible torture of the insects, the action of the sun upon his brain, the hunger, the thirst, and the constant strain of the nerves, proved too much; and he slept, haunted by spectral horrors, and a constant dread of the inevitable--the half-consciousness precursory of death. So passed the night until the sun reappeared, but Hatita's eyes opened not. The heat of the blazing noon caused him no concern, neither did the two great grey vultures that were hovering over him; for it was not until he heard voices in the vicinity that he gazed around. One voice louder than the others was uttering thanks to Allah. He listened; then, summoning all his strength that remained, he cried aloud, in the name of the One Merciful, for assistance. There were sounds of hurrying footsteps, voices raised in surprise, a woman's scream, and then objects, grotesquely distorted, whirled around him and he knew no more. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ When Hatita again opened his weary, fevered eyes, he was amazed to find himself lying upon a soft, silken divan in a magnificent apartment, with slaves watching, ready to minister to his wants. He took a cooling draught from a crystal goblet handed to him, then raised himself, and inquired where he was. The slaves made no reply, but, bowing low, left. Then in a few moments the _frou-frou_ of silk startled him, and next second he leaped to his feet, and, with a cry of joy, clasped Kheira in his arms. In her gorgeous harem dress of pale rose silk, with golden bejewelled girdle, she looked bewitching, though around her eyes were dark rings that betrayed the anxiety of the past few days. As their lips met in hot, passionate kisses, she was followed by a tall, stately, dark-bearded man of matchless bearing, whose robe was of amaranth silk, and who wore in his head-dress a magnificent diamond aigrette. Kheira saw him, and, withdrawing herself from Hatita's embrace, introduced her lover to her father, the Sultan of Abea.