His judgment fluctuated in
an eddy of passion and reason. Passion conquered. He dismissed from his
intelligence all cognizance of good and evil; he determined, under all
circumstances, to cling ever to her; he tore from his mind all memory
of the late disclosure. He returned to the pavilion with a countenance
beaming with affection; he found her weeping, he folded her in his arms,
he kissed her with a thousand kisses, and whispered between each kiss
his ardent love.
'Twas midnight. Schirene reposed in the arms of Alroy. The Caliph, who
was restless and anxious for the arrival of Scherirah, was scarcely
slumbering when the sound of a voice thoroughly aroused him. He looked
around; he beheld the spectre of Jabaster. His hair stood on end, his
limbs seemed to loosen, a cold dew crept over his frame, as he gazed
upon the awful form within a yard of his couch. Unconsciously he
disembarrassed his arms of their fair burden, and, rising on the couch,
leant forward.
'_Alroy, Alroy, Alroy_!'
'I am here.'
'_To-morrow Israel is avenged!_'
'Who is that?' exclaimed the Princess, wakening.
In a frenzy of fear, Alroy, quite forgetting the spectre, turned
and pressed his hand over her eyes.
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