In the meantime the inhabitants of Samarah, scared at the light which
shone over the city, arose in haste, ascended their roofs, beheld the
tower on fire, and hurried half naked to the square. Their love to their
sovereign immediately awoke; and, apprehending him in danger of perishing
in his tower, their whole thoughts were occupied with the means of his
safety. Morakanabad flew from his retirement, wiped away his tears, and
cried out for water like the rest. Bababalouk, whose olfactory nerves
were more familiarised to magical odours, readily conjecturing that
Carathis was engaged in her favourite amusements, strenuously exhorted
them not to be alarmed. Him, however, they treated as an old poltroon,
and forbore not to style him a rascally traitor. The camels and
dromedaries were advancing with water, but no one knew by which way to
enter the tower. Whilst the populace was obstinate in forcing the doors
a violent east wind drove such a volume of flame against them, as at
first forced them off, but afterwards re-kindled their zeal; at the same
time the stench of the horns and mummies increasing, most of the crowd
fell backward in a state of suffocation; those that kept their feet
mutually wondered at the cause of the smell, and admonished each other to
retire.
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