town and their monumental gates of Bab el-Alu, er-Ruah and Zaïr make a strange impression, seeming almost to be artificial decorations on the strange background of the ocean.
One Friday Monsieur Leroy proposed that we go with him to see the sultan leaving for the mosque. The palace, Dar el-Makhzen, is outside the Zaïr gate at the end of a large place used for military parades. The white walls and minaret of the mosque, El-Sunna, rise at the opposite end of the place.
As we arrived, we were thrilled by the sight of a splendid body of horsemen, in white bournouses and turbans with their rifles resting on their hips, drawn up around the whole square and keeping back the crowd. Before the open gate of the palace a company of the Black Guard stood rigidly at attention—strong men in white trousers and short, white jackets with red fezes to add the note of color, while behind them the military band was assembled.
We stopped near the door, where Monsieur Leroy spoke with a group of palace dignitaries that were gathered there to await the signal for the beginning of the ceremony. After a moment we were directed to the interior of the palace, where we were given a place in the gallery that surrounded the whole of the entrance court, in which were waiting a large group of palace officials, high mullahs, servants and the personal orchestra of the sultan. This musical element in the sultan's entourage was made up of over fifty musicians, for the most part youths of from only twelve to fifteen years in gaudy uniforms heavy with gold and silver lace, and equipped
