"O Masa, I must! Do not tremble, my white dove; all our troubles and anxieties will soon be at an end. That report was the signal that Cousrouf Pacha is preparing to depart."

"Is it then really true?" asked Masa, her countenance beaming with delight. "The pacha takes his departure and restores me to freedom!"

"It is true," said Mohammed. "He was to have embarked yesterday evening, and who knows but that when the sun rises the ship will long since have sailed out of the harbor. Yet we must be cautious.

It might be only a pretence, to lull us into false security. It is for this reason, Masa, that I dare not pass the night here. His spies, who follow and observe me everywhere, might announce to him that Mohammed Ali had again passed the night elsewhere than in his house. Let us be cautious while misfortune with its black pinions still hovers over us. Afterward the sun will shine for us. Consider this, Masa, and I will conduct you out into life again as soon as he shall have left the harbor. The whole earth shall then be our paradise. Let us, therefore, wait and be patient."

She stood there thoughtfully; she, too, was awakened from her dream, and life with its cares and anxieties had laid its hold on her.

"How is my father? " asked she, anxiously. "O Mohammed, I have forgotten him and his sufferings since you have been with me. You are silent. He is dead. Oh, grief for his daughter has killed my good father! "

"No, Masa! he is not dead, but he is ill. I do not deny it, grief has gnawed at his heart. Therefore, let us hope that our happiness will restore him to health. And to-morrow he will behold our happiness when I bring you to him, for you will be free, Masa. as soon as the ship has sailed."

"I shall never be free," she cried out, aloud. "He has purchased me, and I shall remain his property. O Mohammed, my soul shudders, for I am forsworn before Allah. By Allah and the spirit of my mother have I sworn that I would return and restore to him his property. I am forsworn, and therefore, Mohammed, when you leave me, the ghins come and flutter about me, pursuing me everywhere and whispering in my ear: 'You are lost and damned, for you have forsworn yourself by the spirit of your mother.' And then I fall on my knees and pray to the welis to guard and protect me in my terror and anxiety. O Mohammed, when you are here I am in paradise; but when you are away, I feel myself in hell! Therefore, remain with me. Do not leave me here in the dark night. See, the stars are all hidden, and the moon is covered with clouds. Oh, I was wrong when I said there was no night.

When you are with me, the sun shines, though it be night without.

But when you are not with me, it is dark night, even though the sun be shining without. Do not leave me alone, remain with your Masa, my Mohammed; stay, stay, at least to-night."

Can he resist such sweet entreaty? Can he tear himself from the fair arms that are entwined about him and draw him back, and rush out into the night? Can he speak of prudence and worldly wisdom, while she whispers such words to him in her sweet voice?

Let come what will in the world without, let all be over-whelmed in ruin, love is here, paradise is open, and you, Masa, are its angel- occupant. Let the world pass away; let the firm rocks be shattered; let the sea swallow all and leave but a desert of water about us, I am content, Masa, to embark with you in a little boat, you and I alone, to ride over the waves and listen to the melodies which the naiads sing to us from the deep, and to what the voice of the wind proclaims. O my houri, alone with you in the boat, what care I for the world, for magnificence and renown? Let others seek them, they are welcome. And though Death with his gloomy visage stood at the entrance of this grotto ready to destroy me, what care I? And though your father die and men bury him, what care we? We live and we love."

He pressed her passionately to his heart. But now it was she who drew him back to the world, to reality.

"No, Mohammed, my father must not die. Go to him, step to his bedside and say to him: 'Pray and wait. When the gloomy stranger who has purchased your Masa and made her his property shall have embarked in his ship and sailed, your daughter will return to you in love and happiness. Wait, father. Do not join my dear mother; wait for your Masa.' Speak to him thus, and I know he will live to see his Masa, again. No, I am not afraid. The ghins will not enter if Masa kneels at the entrance and prays to the prophet who told men that they were to love one another, and that love alone could secure happiness. No, I am not afraid. And see, Mohammed, day is breaking; the sun will soon shine in upon me, and then Masa will sing the song taught her by Djumeila that speaks of love and stars. I am no longer afraid, Mohammed, for I am your beloved, and the girl whom a hero has chosen for his own; how could she lack courage?"

For the second time a loud report now resounded throughout the cave.

"I know what that means," said Mohammed, anxiously. "It is Osman warning me to be on my guard. 'I will give you a signal when danger threatens,' whispered he, in my ear, when we parted, 'that you may know that your friend is watching over you in the night also.' Yes, I must go. But listen, Masa: when I am gone, replace the stone I showed you yesterday, before the opening; and then go back into the cave to the point where the passage turns, where no one can see the entrance to the second cave. Remain there, and await the return of him you love."

"I will do so, Mohammed. When you have gone, I will push the stone before the entrance, and go back into the second cave, where I will fall on my knees and pray to Allah and his prophet until my beloved returns."

At this moment a third report resounded through the cave.

"Danger threatens--Masa, I must away. We will soon be free; farewell until then, farewell! Ah! how pale you have suddenly become! Let me look at you once more, my Masa!"

He raises her in his arms and carries her to the opening, and the moon is gracious and illumines her countenance, but it also makes it deathly pale.

"O Masa, my white dove, how pale you are! Yet your eyes are bright-- let me kiss them. And with this kiss I swear I will love you eternally! And now kiss me, too, and let this kiss be the vow of your eternal love for me!"

She kissed him passionately. "I love you, Mohammed, and you alone will I love on earth!"

He looks at her tenderly, and shudders, for her countenance is still deathly pale.

"I can no longer look upon your dear face, I cannot!" he cries, in tones of anguish. "I have a dread foreboding that I see you for the last time. Farewell, Masa, farewell! Pray for me, and for yourself, and for our love. Farewell, sweet being, my white dove, farewell!"

He folds her to his heart once more, and then away, away out into the night. He still hears behind him the tones of the sweet voice crying, "Farewell, farewell!"

Then all is still, and he rushes on through the darkness toward the stairway in the rock.

BOOK III.

THE MAMELUKES

CHAPTER I

REVENGE.

The night was mild and warm; the sea rested in silent majesty like a slumbering lion, and the wind seemed to hold its breath in order that his repose might not be disturbed. To be in the open air on such a night was good for the weak breast of an invalid, and Osman's father was therefore not surprised when his son expressed a desire to pass the night in the garden pavilion, in preference to remaining in the close apartments of the palace. He would be protected from wind and rain by the roof of the pavilion, and from all other sources of danger the two slaves that had been his faithful and devoted servants from his earliest youth would guard him. The two servants carried his cushions down into the garden, and Osman now lay there, wrapped in his silken coverlet; the two slaves were crouched down at his side. They were still there when the tschorbadji, before retiring for the night, came down to see his son once more and bid him good-night; and there they remained until all the lights were extinguished in the apartments of the tschorbadji as well as in those of the pacha. Then, when all had become still, one of them stooped down and addressed his master in low tones; after they had carried on a short, whispered conversation the slave arose and glided noiselessly away toward the garden-wall, which formed no obstacle to his progress--as the faithful servant could climb like a cat--and he was soon on the other side.

Osman remained on his couch, conversing in low tones with the other servant. Both were attentively observing the pacha's harem, and it surprised them to see that lights were being carried to and fro in the lower apartments at so late an hour.

"Something extraordinary is surely taking place there," murmured Osman, "and we must be on our guard, and listen to the slightest noise."

Hours passed, and the same activity was still being displayed in the harem; and from time to time the attentive servant perceived shadows flitting up and down the avenue that led to the harem.

Footsteps are now heard approaching. It is the slave Nadeg, and he comes swiftly to his master's couch, kneels down and speaks to him for some time in low, earnest tones. Osman rises from his cushions.

"The time has come, we must warn him, we must help him! Be quick, both of you!--Jabad, hasten to the summit of the rock. Here, take the pistol and give the signal agreed upon, three shots fired at short intervals.--But you, Nadeg, hasten down to the mouth of the cave again, and when, aroused by my shots, my friend comes out, call him, tell him I am awaiting him, and bring him to me at once. Oh, I am anxious on his account: be quick, that you may get there in time!"

The two walk stealthily and rapidly down the garden-path. Osman listens to their retreating footsteps, and, as they die away in the distance, he draws a breath of relief. They are good, zealous servants, and will obey his instructions faithfully. He listens again eagerly, and again looks over toward the harem, where be sees the lights still flitting about and shadows passing the windows.

Osman's heart tells him that something unusual, something that bodes no good to his friend, is going on there, and his love gives strength to his poor, weak body. He rises from his cushions; his limbs are stiff, and his breast pains him, but he is heedless of this. Cautiously he descends the steps into the garden, and walks noiselessly down the pathway. He knows that a high hedge separates the garden of the harem from the rest of the park at the end of this path. Hitherto all have respected this boundary, and no one has dared to cross it; may the good spirits pardon the young man for venturing to do so now! He is in the garden of the harem. It is certainly dangerous to enter it, and, if the eunuchs should discover him there, they would seize him. But, fortunately, he is the tschorbadji's son, and that will protect him. He is on his father's property. He walks onward, no longer painfully; he no longer feels that his breast hurts him; he is only thinking of his friend; he can perhaps discover something for him, perhaps something for him. He now stands still and listens. In the distance he hears the reports of the pistol.

"Ah, Mohammed is warned! He has been aroused from his sweet repose, and will come to me."

But he must know what all this disturbance and running about means.

Osman has approached close to the harem, and stands at the iron gate that opens into the court-yard. He stands there for a moment and listens, and then crosses the court-yard and looks toward the door in the wall that opens into the street. All is still in the house, as in the yard; but now he hears a noise at the door that opens into the vestibule of the building. It is opened, and two dark figures appear, and descend the steps into the yard. They are carrying something; it looks like a cot; it is a cot covered with white sheets, but it is empty. They carry it across the yard, and out into the street.

He hears them lock the door from the outside; hears the murmuring of voices, and then all is again quiet. What was the cot intended for?

What could it all mean?

He listens, and looks around anxiously; but all is still. Perhaps his care and anxiety have been groundless; perhaps these are only things the servants are carrying to the ship to prepare for Cousrouf's departure on the morrow.

He again listens awhile, and then returns through the garden to the pavilion. Wearily he throws himself on his cushions, and lies there, for a moment, with closed eyes.

Now he hears footsteps approaching. Who can it be? he asks in a low voice, and the two servants emerge from the darkness, come to his side, and whisper something in his ear. Osman draws a breath of relief.

"Allah be praised, he is coming, he is saved!"

Yes, other footsteps are now rapidly approaching, and, in a moment, Mohammed is at his friend's side.

"You called me, my friend, and here I am! What has happened?"

"I do not know, Mohammed. It seems to be nothing, and yet my heart was filled with care and anxiety on your account, and I could not resist the inclination to call you. Listen: Nadeg was among the cliffs not far from the entrance of your cave, to which you came late at night. He was standing guard there, but be was not alone,"