In the meantime, Freeman and Trueman, who were far in the rear amid Fakredeen’s attendants, exchanged congratulating glances of blended surprise and approbation.
‘This is the first gentleman’s seat I have seen since we left England,’ said Freeman.
‘There must have been a fine coming of age here,’ rejoined Trueman.
‘As for that,’ replied Freeman, ‘comings of age depend in a manner upon meat and drink. They ain’t in noways to be carried out with coffee and pipes. Without oxen roasted whole, and broached hogsheads, they ain’t in a manner legal.’
A horseman, who was ahead of the Emir and Tancred, now began beating with a stick on two small tabors, one on each side of his saddle, and thus announced to those who were already on the watch, the approach of their lord. It was some time, however, before the road, winding through the sycamore trees and gradually ascending, brought them to the outworks of the castle, of which, during their progress, they enjoyed a variety of views. It was a very extensive pile, in excellent condition, and apparently strongly fortified. A number of men, in showy dresses and with ornamented arms, were clustered round the embattled gateway, which introduced the travellers into a quadrangle of considerable size, and of which the light and airy style pleasingly and suitably contrasted with the sterner and more massive character of the exterior walls. A fountain rose in the centre of the quadrangle which was surrounded by arcades. Ranged round this fountain, in a circle, were twenty saddled steeds of the highest race, each held by a groom, and each attended by a man-at-arms. All pressed their hands to their hearts as the Emir entered, but with a gravity of countenance which was never for a moment disturbed. Whether their presence were habitual, or only for the occasion, it was unquestionably impressive. Here the travellers dismounted, and Fakredeen ushered Tancred through a variety of saloons, of which the furniture, though simple, as becomes the East, was luxurious, and, of its kind, superb; floors of mosaic marbles, bright carpets, arabesque ceilings, walls of carved cedar, and broad divans of the richest stuffs of Damascus.
‘And this divan is for you,’ said Fakredeen, showing Tancred into a chamber, which opened upon a flower-garden shaded by lemon trees. ‘I am proud of my mirror,’ he added, with some exultation, as he called Tancred’s attention to a large French looking-glass, the only one in Lebanon. ‘And this,’ added Fakredeen, leading Tancred through a suite of marble chambers, ‘this is your bath.’
In the centre of one chamber, fed by a perpetual fountain, was a large alabaster basin, the edges of which were strewn with flowers just culled. The chamber was entirely of porcelain; a golden flower on a ground of delicate green.
‘I will send your people to you,’ said Fakredeen; ‘but, in the meantime, there are attendants here who are, perhaps, more used to the duty;’ and, so saying, he clapped his hands, and several servants appeared, bearing baskets of curious linen, whiter than the snow of Lebanon, and a variety of robes.