d, as she
gradually developed to his imagination the destinies upon which he might
enter, offering herself as the eventual prize to be gained by a career
certain to be pushed on successfully through the medium of a powerful,
though mysterious influence--Florence, relatives, and friends, became as
secondary considerations in his mind; and by the time the lady brought
her long address to a conclusion--that address which had grown more
impassioned and tender as she proceeded--Alessandro threw himself at her
feet, exclaiming, "Lovely houri that thou art--beauteous as the maidens
that dwell in the paradise of thy prophet--I am thine. I am thine!"

The lady extended her right hand, which he took and pressed in rapture
to his lips. But the next moment she rose lightly to her feet, and
assuming a demeanor befitting a royal sultana, said in a sweet, though
impressive tone:

"We must now part--thou to enter on thy career of fame, I to set in
motion every spring within my reach to advance thee to the pinnacle of
glory and power. Henceforth thy name is Ibrahim! Go, then, my Ibrahim,
and throw thyself at the feet of the reis-effendi, and that great
minister will forthwith present thee to Piri Pasha, the grand vizier.
Toil diligently--labor arduously--and the rest concerns me. Go, then, my
Ibrahim, I say, and enter on the path which will lead thee to the summit
of fame and power!"

She extended her arms toward him--he snatched her to his breast, and
covered her cheeks with kisses. In that paradise of charms he could have
reveled forever; but the tender caresses lasted not beyond a few
moments, for the lady tore herself away from his embrace and hurried
into an adjacent apartment. Alessandro--or rather, the renegade,
Ibrahim--passed into the anteroom where his guide, the female slave,
awaited his return. She conducted him back to the hall, and advanced
toward the door of the voluptuous kiosk, where he had changed his
raiment.

"Goest thou forth a Christian still, or a true believer?" she asked
turning suddenly round.

"As a Mussulman," answered the renegade, while his heart sank within
him, and remorse already commenced its torture.

"Then thou hast no further need of the Christian garb," said the slave.
"Await me here."

She entered the kiosk, and returned in a few moments with the cap,
which, in obedience to her directions, he once more drew on his head and
over his countenance. The slave then led him into the garden, which