This was the place of the festival, and it was filled already with a
great company of children, their fathers and their teachers. Moors,
Arabs, Berbers, and Jews, clad in their various costumes of white
and blue and black and red--they were a gorgeous, a voluptuous, and,
perhaps, a beautiful spectacle in the morning sunlight.
As Israel entered, with Naomi by the hand, he was conscious that every
eye was on them, and as they passed through the way that was made
for them, he heard the whispered exclamations of the people. "Shoof!"
muttered a Moor. "See!" "It's himself," said a Jew. "And the child,"
said another Jew. "Allah has smitten her," said an Arab "Blind and
dumb and deaf," said another Moor "God be gracious to my father!" said
another Arab.
Musicians were playing in the gallery that ran round the court, and
from the flat roof above it the women of the Governor's hareem, not yet
dispersed, his four lawful Mohammedan wives, and many concubines, were
gazing furtively down from behind their haiks. There was a fountain in
the middle of the patio, and at the farther end of it, within an
alcove that opened out of a horseshoe arch, beneath ceilings hung with
stalactites, against walls covered with silken haities, and on Rabat
rugs of many colours, sat Ben Aboo and his Christian bride.
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