like one that had lost his senses, and then returned to?? h?is apartment.
CHAPTER XVI.
"YOUR SLAVE'S AT YOUR FEET, LORD."
There was dancing that nigh?t in the ?harem of Katlu Khan. He did no?t, lik?e the Mogal Emperors, ?celebrate his ?anniversary in festive mirth and gaity in the midst of his courtiers;—his nature was intensely selfish, and ever cr?aved for the lusts? of the flesh. That night he was surrounded by his sweet-h?earts, and was engaged in mirth and fun with them. There was n?o ?other danci?ng girl,—no other spectator. No ?o?ne could go there except the eunuchs. Some were dancing, some were singing and some keeping measure; the rest s?at round ?Katlu Khan and listened.
Nothing that ?could please t?he se?nse was lacking there. You entered the chamber, and a grateful cool?ness spread itself over? your body, on a?ccount ? of the odour of? f??ragrant waters, which kept continually spr?inkling?. The sp?lendour of ever so many silver, ivory a? c?rystal ?vessels daz?zled yo?ur sig?ht. No end of flo??wers—he?re in garlands—the?re in heaps—and t?here again in bouquets;—?they g?raced the hair of th?e fair ones,—they gl?eamed mildly over their neck?. Some ca?rried the flowery fan—some were? dec?ked in flowers—some were thr?owitng bouquets ?at?? others,
