Amid these careless warders glided the puny form of a little old
Turk, poorly dressed like a marabout or santon of the desert--a
sort of enthusiasts, who sometimes ventured into the camp of the
Crusaders, though treated always with contumely, and often with
violence. Indeed, the luxury and profligate indulgence of the
Christian leaders had occasioned a motley concourse in their
tents of musicians, courtesans, Jewish merchants, Copts, Turks,
and all the varied refuse of the Eastern nations; so that the
caftan and turban, though to drive both from the Holy Land was
the professed object of the expedition, were, nevertheless,
neither an uncommon nor an alarming sight in the camp of the
Crusaders. When, however, the little insignificant figure we
have described approached so nigh as to receive some interruption
from the warders, he dashed his dusky green turban from his head,
showed that his beard and eyebrows were shaved like those of a
professed buffoon, and that the expression of his fantastic and
writhen features, as well as of his little black eyes, which
glittered like jet, was that of a crazed imagination.
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