CHAPTER XLI.
THE MASTER'S PRICE A dim and subtly perfumed corridor opened out before them, its walls hung with tapestries, between which, by the light of sandal-oil _mash'als_, or cressets, the glimmer of the dull-gold walls could be distinguished.
Pillars rose to the roof, and these were all inlaid with mother-of-pearl, with fine copper and silver arabesques of amazing complexity.

Every minutest architectural detail had been carved out of the solid gold dyke that had formed the city; nothing had been added to fill out any portion.

The imagination was staggered at thought of the infinite skill and labor required for such a task.

The creation of this city of El Barr seemed far beyond the possible; yet here it was, all the result of the graver's chisel.[1] [Footnote 1: If any reader doubts the existence of El Barr, as a city of gold carved from a single block, on the ground that such a work would be impossible, I refer him to an account of Petra, in the _National Geographic Magazine_ for May, 1907.

Petra, in all details, was carved from granite--a monolithic city.] Blase as the Legionaries were and hardened to wonders, the sight of this corridor and of the vast banquet-hall opening out of it, at the far end, came near upsetting their aplomb.