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faithful sick?" said Edris al Shafei, in a low voice to his companion?—"I rather think he is in his oratory," answered Al Mouhateddin. Vathek, who heard the dialogue, cried out:—"What imports it you, how I am employed? approach without delay." They advanced, whilst the Caliph, without shewing himself, put forth his hand from behind the tapestry that hung before the door, and demanded of them the besom. Having prostrated themselves as well as the corridor would permit, and, even in a tolerable semicircle, the venerable Al Shafei, drawing forth the besom from the embroidered and perfumed scarves, in which it had been enveloped, and secured from the profane gaze of vulgar eyes, arose from his associates, and advanced, with an air of the most awful solemnity towards the supposed oratory; but, with what astonishment! with what horror was he seized!—Vathek, bursting out into a villainous laugh, snatched the besom from his trembling hand, and,
