"
"Your token?" demanded the recluse.
Sir Kenneth hesitated. Former suspicions, and the marks of
insanity which the hermit had formerly exhibited, rushed suddenly
on his thoughts; but how suspect a man whose manners were so
saintly? "My password," he said at length, "is this--Kings
begged of a beggar."
"It is right," said the hermit, while he paused. "I know you
well; but the sentinel upon his post--and mine is an important
one--challenges friend as well as foe,"
He then moved forward with the lamp, leading the way into the
room which they had left. The Saracen lay on his couch, still
fast asleep. The hermit paused by his side, and looked down on
him.
"He sleeps," he said, "in darkness, and must not be awakened."
The attitude of the Emir did indeed convey the idea of profound
repose. One arm, flung across his body, as he lay with his face
half turned to the wall, concealed, with its loose and long
sleeve, the greater part of his face; but the high forehead was
yet visible. Its nerves, which during his waking hours were so
uncommonly active, were now motionless, as if the face had been
composed of dark marble, and his long silken eyelashes closed
over his piercing and hawklike eyes.
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