The stars were shining before they quitted the Arabian tabernacle of Besso. The air was just as soft as a sweet summer English noon, and quite as still. The pavilions of the terrace and the surrounding bowers were illuminated by the varying tints of a thousand lamps. Bright carpets and rich cushions were thrown about for those who cared to recline; the brothers Farhi, for example, and indeed most of the men, smoking inestimable nargilehs. The Consul-General Laurella begged permission to present Lord Montacute to his daughters Thérèse and Sophonisbe, who, resolved to show to him that Damascus was not altogether so barbarous as he deemed it, began talking of new dances and the last opera. Tancred would have found great difficulty in sustaining his part in the conversation, had not the young ladies fortunately been requested to favour those present with a specimen of the art in which they excelled, which they did after much solicitation, vowing that they had no voice to-night, and that it was impossible at all times to sing except in a chamber. ‘For my part,’ said Hillel Besso, with an extremely piquant air, ‘music in a chamber is very charming, but I think also in the open air it is not so bad.’ Tancred took advantage of this movement to approach Eva, who was conversing, as they took their evening walk, with the soft-eyed sister of Hillel and Madame Nassim Farhi; a group of women that the drawing-rooms of Europe and the harems of Asia could perhaps not have rivalled. ‘The Mesdemoiselles Laurella are very accomplished,’ said Tancred, ‘but at Damascus I am not content to hear anything but sackbuts and psalteries.’ ‘But in Europe your finest music is on the subjects of our history,’ said Eva. ‘Naturally,’ said Tancred, ‘music alone can do justice to such themes. They baffle the uninspired pen.’ ‘There is a prayer which the Mesdemoiselles Laurella once sang, a prayer of Moses in Egypt,’ said Madame Nassim, somewhat timidly. ‘It is very fine.’ ‘I wish they would favour us with it,’ said Eva; ‘I will ask Hillel to request that kindness;’ and she beckoned to Hillel, who sauntered toward her, and listened to her whispered wish with a smile of supercilious complacency. ‘At present they are going to favour us with Don Pasquale,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. ‘A prayer is a very fine thing, but for my part, at this hour, I think a serenade is not so bad.’ ‘And how do you like my father?’ said Eva to Tancred in a hesitating tone, and yet with a glance of blended curiosity and pride. ‘He is exactly what Sidonia prepared me for; worthy not only of being your father, but the father of mankind.’ ‘The Moslemin say that we are near paradise at Damascus,’ said Madame Nassim, ‘and that Adam was fashioned out of our red earth.’ ‘He much wished to see you,’ said Eva, ‘and your meeting is as unexpected as to him it is agreeable.’