the doors so eagerly besieged, and the women, swarming round him like busy flies, begin at once to pester him, with arch and fawning supplications, to turn them in the locks. But the old janitor refuses. He pretends amazement--is horrified at the bare idea, and will none of it. The women press coaxingly upon him, lavishing endearments. But of what avail the whole battery of female charms against such as he? With knowing leer upon his unctuous, smooth face, he wags his head and still says them nay. But though he fancies himself immune from women’s wiles, he has reckoned without the full measure of feminine cunning. He has his vulnerable point; whatever else he lacks he has at least male vanity. Is he not _chief_ of the eunuchs? are not the keys he loves to jingle a visible symbol of the power which he wields? Look you, he is a person of no small authority and importance. With quiet change of tactics the women shift their attack to a different angle. In place of supplication they heap compliments upon him. They slaver him with blandishments, flattering him to the utmost of his bent. The fatuous old fool swallows their fulsome praises with avidity, his flabby cheeks puffed out with complacency and self-conceit. But then the women change their tune. Mockingly one hints that his vaunted power is but a sham; others are quick to press the suggestion home. Plainly it can be no real authority which he is feared to exercise. They challenge him with jeers to prove his power; they dare him to use the keys of which he is so proud. The poor fool is not proof against this insidious assault. Lacking real respect, he clings fondly to its shadow; rather than sacrifice that his vanity will endure any risk. His fat face, but now wreathed in gratified smiles, grows glum and peevish as praise gives place to irony. He hesitates, and is lost. The women press their advantage, and their victim yields. Determined at all costs to demonstrate his power, he thrusts a key into the first door and petulantly turns it. The door swings open, and from the corridor behind emerges a band of negroes, supple swarthy minions clad in copper-ornamented robes. With stealthy tread they glide among the waiting women, and quickly each finds a consort, eager for her favourite’s embraces. Futile the eunuch’s protestations that now he has done enough to vindicate his authority; impatiently the women who remain demand that having done so much he shall complete his work. Already repentant of the rash betrayal of his master’s trust, the wretched janitor would stay his hand, but the mischief is done, and bowing to the logic of his own folly, he unlocks the second door. Forth troops a second band of negroes, decked in ornaments of silver, to be received with not less complaisance than the others.