I dismounted and slipped through the gateway, and presently came to an open space, where a young man sat singing upon a sort of raised bench with lamps on either side of him, and a large audience in front.

I saw his face and, notwithstanding the turban which he wore and his Eastern robe--yes, and the passage of all those years--I knew it for that of my son.

Some spirit of madness entered into me, and I called aloud, 'Roderick, Roderick!' and he started up, staring about him wildly.

The audience started up also, and one of them caught sight of me lurking in the shadow.
"With a howl of rage, for I had desecrated their sanctuary, they sprang at me.

To save my life, coward that I was, I fled back through the gates.