tinguish the form; but, quicker than my eye, my heart recognised Zahra'. She stood near the parapet for a short space, facing the direction where I was, and waited motionless till the song was over. She then lifted her hand, and pointed towards a distant spot; I could perceive that Moharib also had risen from his place, and made some sign in answer,—what, however, I could not make out for the shadow, which by this time had overspread everything. Immediately afterwards the figure left the roof.

Moharib came up to where I was, and, taking me by the hand, led me in silence across the maize-field to the broken ground where he and I had before sat and conversed together in the torrent-bed. Once more we sat down on its pebbles; a deep revulsion of feeling came over me, my heart was like to burst. A faint sheen still glimmered over

where the moon had set in the western sky; else the only light was that of the innumerable stars, some of them were reflected in the water at our feet. We waited both of us without speaking; had I tried, I could not have uttered a word.

"A few minutes passed thus; they could have been only a few, but I held no count of time, I had even no distinct thought; only it seemed to me that we were there spell-bound by some strange enchantment, that had begun I knew not how or when, and would hold us thus unbroken for how long I knew not either. At last I was roused to life by a slight rustle coming through the maize; then followed a sound as of trodden pebbles, and two forms stood by us. Amid the half-transparent darkness of the summer night I recognized in them Zahra' herself, and with her the Arab servingmaid, Moḥarib's kinswoman; each was closely

VOL. II.

D

wrapped up in a long black veil that con

cealed every feature.

Approaching, Zahra' saluted us; I stretch

ed out my hand in silence, for my voice was choked. We then, she and I,-took our place side by side on the bank of stones; Moharib and the maid remained standing near, till Zahra' bade them sit down, which they did. For some time no one spoke.

"Zahra' was the first to break the silence. In a low voice, 'I have heard all this afternoon, Ahmed,' said she, addressing herself to me. 'I was unwilling to speak sooner, but for some days I had feared the eye of the envious and the watcher; that which I feared has indeed come to pass. But they shall not have their will :-cheer up, my brother.'

"How can I cheer up,' I exclaimed, 'when you are in danger? my life! my soul! For me, enough if I die for your safety; but what

can be done? Tell me at once, and I will do it; but, O my sister! do not keep me in suspense; I am ready for everything.'

"It is not my danger that matters; it is yours,' she answered. For me I am safe, at least for the present; no one either within doors or without will dare to avow suspicion regarding me; much less to embody their suspicions in act; besides, the expected arrival of my cousin the Emeer, if nothing else, will suffice to put all gossip to silence where I am concerned. But you, my poor brother!—they will not be so scrupulous about you; your life is every moment at the mercy of those who would think as little of taking it as they would of killing a quail or a partridge; it is for you I fear.'

"Let them try,' I replied. I have a right arm and a dagger; and these have been too much for the like of any enemies hereabouts

before now.' As I spoke, I instinctively drew aside my cloak, and showed the weapons I

wore.

"Gently she laid her hand on my shoulder. 'You are brave, my brother; I know it; were it a question of fair fighting I should be little alarmed about you. But what use would your courage be, or your dagger and pistols either, against a shot from behind a bush, a stab in the back, or a poisoned draught. Be wise, and listen to me; it is the only chance for your life, and for mine; for, Ahmed, if you die I will not survive you by half-an-hour,' she added in an under tone.

"What would you have me do, dearest?' I asked; 'quit Diar-Bekr? No; that I cannot while you are here: and where should I go, leaving you behind? Ah Zahra'! not that; tell me anything but separation from you, and I will obey; were it to walk through fire for your sake.'