ur sated passion must become your
victim also."

"Better--better were it," exclaimed Ibrahim, in a tone denoting the
profoundest mental anguish, "to be the veriest mendicant who implores
alms at the gate of the mosque of St. Sophia, than the grand vizier of
the Ottoman Empire."

With these words he rushed into the adjoining saloon, the negro
following and fastening the door behind him. Nisida now began to breathe
freely once more. From what perils had she escaped! The violation of her
couch by the unprincipled Ibrahim would have been followed by her
immediate assassination at the hands of the Ethiopian whom the
sultana-mother had placed as a spy on the actions of her son-in-law. On
the other hand, she felt rejoiced that the incident of this night had
occurred; for it had been the means of revealing to her a secret of
immense importance in connection with the grand vizier. She remembered
the terms of grief and affection in which Demetrius had spoken of the
disappearance of Calanthe; and she had heard enough on that occasion to
convince her that the Greek would become the implacable enemy of any man
who had wronged that much-loved sister. How bitter, then, would be the
hatred of Demetrius--how dreadful would be the vengeance which he must
crave against him whose lustful passion had led to the murder of
Calanthe. Yes, Ibrahim, thy secret is now in possession of Nisida of
Riverola; in the possession of that woman of iron mind and potent
energy, and whom thou fondly believest to be deaf and dumb!

Nisida slept no more that night, the occurrences of which furnished her
with so much food for profound meditation: and with the earliest gleam
of dawn that tinged the eastern heaven, she rose from her couch.
Entering the saloon, she opened the windows to admit the gentle breeze
of morning; and ere she commenced her toilet, she lingered to gaze upon
the stately ships that were plowing the blue sea in the wake of the
admiral's vessel wherein she was. Suddenly her eyes fell upon what
appeared to be a small speck at a little distance; but as this object
was moving rapidly along on the surface of the Mediterranean, it soon
approached sufficiently near to enable her to discern that it was a boat
impelled by a single sail. Urged by an undefinable and yet a strong
sentiment of curiosity, Nisida remained at the saloon window, watching
the progress of the little bark, which bounded over the waves with
extraordinary speed, bending graceful