of paradise never opened on keener joys. The veil was rent between us! her heart lay open to mine, and mine to her; without words we understood each the other's very soul, yet

used many words to realize to ourselves our own bliss; as a miser turns over and over in his open palms the treasure which he knew was his all the same while yet locked up in the strong box at his feet. She, however, unfailingly true to herself, never allowed the faintest approach to the familiarity that might, if permitted, have shaken the unsullied bloom from the tree of our happiness; and I, taught by her example, steadily repressed the passion which I felt, and by repressing increased it.

"Often however we could not but laugh together at the security we enjoyed amid the possibilities of discovery and danger on every hand; like those comfortably seated on a firm grass-grown ledge, with precipices all

un

around. Without, within the dwelling itself, where we met so easily, conversed so reservedly, loved so ardently, were those to whom the slenderest hint of what was then passing in old Jowhar's chamber would have been the signal for amazement, dismay,-fury, revenge, and blood. and blood. Now all was hushed

and calm; if any suspicion had for a moment existed, it seemed to have again wholly died. away. That I too, Hermann Wolff, a European, a stranger, should be here, Ahmed Agha, a Mahometan, a retainer of a Koordish Beg, unsurmised, undetected, in the haram of a Sheykh of Benoo-Sheyban, conversing with his only daughter, loved by her, pledged to her as she to me, seemed to me at times, and to her also, more a dream than a reality; till strangeness lent a new zest to enjoyment, and wonder to love.

Often, too, did our talk turn on the future.

She would never consent to wed the Emeer Daghfel that was her firm, I had almost said her iron, resolve. That she would be mine and mine alone was, though implied rather than expressed in words, not less her certain will. But how? She would not, and I could not say. Moḥarib also, who best knew her plans, and had indeed suggested them, waited her order to speak, and in the meantime kept her counsel, eluding my every attempt to draw him into open discussion with persevering adroitness. At times, too, I I was tortured by the necessary briefness of our interviews, occasionally also by being obliged to prolong the intervals between them; but, present or absent, the assurance of her love and the nearness of my hopes sustained me. My treasure, if not yet wholly in my grasp, was not less surely mine.

"Three weeks passed thus, and no tidings

had reached us of the approach of the hated Emeer, hated because undesired. But by the end of the first week my master, Ak-Arslan Beg, accompanied by thirty of his men, came in great state to fulfil his engagement at Diar-Bekr, and took up his quarters in the house of his kinsman, the bridegroom, Afsheen Beg. Henceforth my attendance and my services were frequently required; nor could I any longer live apart from the whole band of my fellow-horsemen, nor elude their observation in the manner that I had been able to use with the two stolid Koords, my original associates. So I made the best of this state of affairs, went carefully through whatever my duties in the Beg's household, or the customs of town-life, required; took my full share of visits, active pleasures, and amusements, even formed some fresh friendships; but made, as you may well imagine,

no one the confidant of what was hour by hour the mainspring, the pulse, the very life of my being. Nor did this secresy cost me the slightest effort. I was much too happy to care inwardly for any other intimacy than one; wherever my body, and even my mind might be, my heart, or rather my heart of hearts, was always in one place, and with one alone. Only for her sake I loved, and have always since loved all little rooms, black eunuchs, and red marks on doors."

"Go on," said Tanțawee. Hermann continued.

"Twenty days passed thus. Meanwhile the preparations for Afsheen Beg's ill-sorted marriage were nearly completed; and nothing delayed its celebration but the imagined necessity of waiting for a lucky day; the wise Arab admonition of Take no notice of

6

the days, lest they take notice of you,' forming