‘So do I,’ said the eunuch, ‘I know his black horse.’
‘I wonder how many dirhems old Bostenay is worth,’ said the captain.
‘Immense!’ said the sentinel.
‘No plunder, I suppose?’ said the eunuch.
‘We shall see,’ said the captain; ‘at any rate, I owe a thousand to old Shelomi. We need not pay now, you know.’
‘Certainly not,’ said the black eunuch. ‘The rebels.’
A body of horsemen dashed forward. Their leader in advance reined in his fiery charger beneath the walls.
‘In the name of the Prophet, who is that?’ exclaimed the captain of the gate, a little confused.
‘I never saw him before,’ said the sentinel, ‘although he is in the Seljuk dress. ‘Tis some one from Bagdad, I guess.’
A trumpet sounded.