Barakah was on the point of making a fierce answer, when the glorious voice of Tâhir rose, compelling silence. She had heard a hundred singers, male and female, since she came to Cairo; but Tâhir’s voice alone had power to move her. The others mouthed and shrieked to individual passions; but Tâhir took the soul and soared with it, producing exaltation and a sense of peace. He sang from the pure heart of El Islam, and shed its fervent calm on all who heard him. When the song died she had forgotten anger.

That wedding-feast became forever memorable by reason of a shocking tragedy at its conclusion. Barakah and her friends were led by Umm ed-Dahak, who was a relative of Tâhir’s wife, to view the nuptial chamber. It was full of flowering plants; the bed, with silken coverings, was quite embowered. In addition to the odour of so many blossoms the air was thick with perfumes burnt and sprinkled. The room, they were informed, had been arranged, the flowers provided, by rich admirers of the singer’s talent.