ult to our love; I repeated to my
mother all your kind promises, and thought that I had set her mind at
rest. Imagine my astonishment at hearing her, a few days afterwards,
return to the subject: she had seen the count again, who had declared
that your uncle would disinherit you if you did not carry out his
wishes."

"And did you believe all that?"

"No," she replied promptly, "for you had not told me so! But then my
mother, seeing that I would only believe you, changed her tactics: she
spoke about Count Kiusko, his wealth, and his love for me."

"She did that, did she?"

"Oh, forgive her!" she continued; "she gets anxious both on my account
and her own. She is alarmed about the future, and fancies she sees me
deserted by you! Well, it was simply a cruel struggle for me, in which
my heart could not betray you. I suffered through it, and that's all!
But three days ago, I don't know what can have passed during your aunt's
party, my mother, on our way home, said to me in a decided manner that
she had resolved 'to live no longer among the infidels,' and intended
'to return to the land of the Faithful, in order to expiate the great
wrong she had committed by living here.'

"I was dismayed at this resolution of hers. As she based it upon our
faith, I could not oppose her, for that would have been a sacrilege, but
I could at least invoke her affection for me, and entreat her not to
leave. Then, while I was on my knees before her, and was kissing her and
crying, she startled me by saying: 'You shall not leave me; for, when I
go, I shall take you away with me'!"

"Why, she must be crazy!" I exclaimed.

"Well, dear," added Kondje-Gul, "you can easily understand what a
thunderbolt this was to me! I felt it so painfully that I nearly swooned
away. My mother was alarmed and called for Fanny. The next day, I
attempted to prevail upon her to change her mind, declaring that it
would kill me to be separated from you. I thought I had mollified her,
for she kissed me and said that all she cared about was my happiness.
But this evening, while we were in the carriage on our way to
Suzannah's, she spoke again to me about Count Kiusko. I have a
presentiment that the greatest enemy to our love and happiness is that
man; and that he it is who has been influencing my mother, hoping, no
doubt, that when separated from you I should no longer be able to resist
her wishes.

"Well, you know the rest, I had gone into the boudoir while you we