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Orfeo was uncomfortably aware of the fact that Alkadi Nasreen was still studying him carefully. No light showed as yetīrian Craig through the cracks in the shutter but he judged that dawn could not be far off. The more substantial candle which was set in a recess in the wall was not quite so near to extinction, but it too seemed tired and languid. The two candles set before him on the table had burned low in their brass holders the remaining tallow had flowed into grotesque shapes, and the points of the spikes upon which the candles had been impaled were very close to the wicks. In order to spare his aching back he leaned forward, resting his elbows and forearms on the table. Orfeo felt so tired he had begun to think that the Arabians had the right of it, and that chairs were a ridiculous folly devised for torment rather than comfort. The chair was by no means the most comfortable he had ever sat upon the men of Araby preferred low couches and cushions, and had it not been for the fact that Alkadi Nasreen, Caliph of Mahabbah and the Twin Seas, was Estalian by breeding and birth there might have been no chairs in Arjijil at all. His eyelids were heavy-as well they might be, given that he had been telling his tale for several hours.

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