And here it was that Jā-khāz did a fatal thing. Being near the maid and much affected by her beauty, he addressed her as _Hur-al-missa_ (the most angelic of women), which, of course, she understood not. This were well had he gone no further, but he next put his arm about her waist with intent to kiss her. Much terrified, she tried to free herself. But Jā-khāz, holding her fair chin with his other hand, had brought his lips almost to hers when the old man raised his heavy staff and brought it down upon our comrade's head with cruel swiftness. This falling stick upon a solid skull resounded about the dome and echoed through the empty corridors. Bhoz-jā-khāz blinked and staggered back. Then, with fury in his face, he sprang savagely toward the aged man. But here the younger Mehrikan interfered. Rapidly approaching them and shutting tight his bony hand, he shot it from him with startling velocity, so directing that it came in contact with the face of Jā-khāz who, to our amazement, sat roughly upon the marble pavement, the blood streaming from his nostrils. He was a pitiful sight. Unaccustomed to such warfare we were seriously alarmed, and thought him killed perhaps. Ad-el-pate, a mighty wrestler, and of powerful build, rushed furiously upon the Mehrikan for whom I trembled. But his arm again went out before him, and Ad-el-pate likewise sat. A mournful spectacle, and every Persian felt his heart beat fast within him. By this time Jā-khāz was on his feet again, purple with rage. With uplifted scimitar he sprang toward our host. The old man stepped between. Jā-khāz, with wanton cruelty, brought his steel upon the ancient head, and stretched him upon the floor. For an instant the younger one stood horror-stricken, then snatching from the floor the patriarch's staff--a heavy stick with an iron end--he jumped forward, and, quicker than words can tell it, dealt a frightful blow upon the head of Jā-khāz which sent him headlong to the ground with a broken skull. [Illustration: The Slaughter of the Persians] All this had happened in a moment, and wild confusion followed. My followers drew their arms and rushed upon the Mehrikan. The girl ran forward either from terror or to shield her spouse, I know not which, when a flying arrow from a sailor's cross-bow pierced her to the heart. This gave the Mehrikan the energy of twenty men. He knocked brave Kuzundam senseless with a blow that would have killed an ox. Such fury I had not conceived. He brought his flying staff like a thunderbolt from Heaven upon the Persian skulls, yet always edging toward the door to prevent his enemies surrounding him. Four of our number, in as many minutes, joined Jā-khāz upon the floor. Kuzundam, Ad-el-pate, Fattan-laïz-eh, and Hä-tak, a sailor, lay stretched upon the pavement, all dead or grievously wounded.