A dark and meaning smile passed over the lip of Aldarin, and again he communed with his own thoughts.
A footstep sounded through the ante-chamber; in a moment the stranger, tall and majestic, stood before the Scholar.
“Ibrahim gives peace and joy to Aldarin!”
“Peace and joy to Ibrahim-Ben-Malakim!”
As thus they saluted each other, in the Arabian tongue the native language of the one, and the familiar study of the other, Aldarin advanced and gazed upon the stranger.
His face was most impressive.
Regular in feature, dark and tawny in hue, the countenance of the stranger was marked by a high forehead, thick and bushy eye-brows white as snow, giving a strange effect to the glance of the full dark eyes, that looked forth from beneath their shadow: a compressed lip, half hidden by the venerable beard, that well-nigh covered his rounded chin and dark brown cheeks, and descended to his breast in waving locks, frosted by age and toil. A cap of sable fur surmounting his forehead, imparted a striking relief to the visage of the Arabian.
His attire was simple and majestic. A mantle or robe of black cloth, gathered around the throat, by a chain of gold, with a collar of snow-white fur, fell in long folds to his knees, bordered by lace of gold. As the robe waved suddenly aside from his commanding frame, it might be seen that the tunic which gathered around his form, was fashioned of the finest velvet glistening white in color, with a border of strange and mystic characters, his legs were encased in dark hose, and slouching boots of doe-skin, glittering with the knightly spur of gold.
“Thou art changed, Ibrahim!”
“And thou Aldarin!”