turned an angle in the path that led towards the
palace, he was met by one of the eunuch guards, who saluted him
after the military style with his carbine, and marched steadily on
in pursuance of his duty. The monarch did not even lift his eyes at
the guard's salute--his thoughts were uneasy, and his brow dark with
disappointment.

It was but a few hours subsequent to the scene which we have just
described, that Komel was again seated in the seraglio gardens on
the gentle slope where it curves towards the sea. She had wandered
beneath the bright stars and silvery moon as far as it was prudent
for her to do, and cleft only the narrow path trod by the silent
guard between her and the wall of the seraglio. The hour was so late
that stillness reigned over the moon-lit capital, and the place was
as silent as the deep shadows of night. The half-witted boy had
followed her steps by swinging himself from tree to tree, until now
he was close by the spot where she sat, though lost to sight among
the thick foliage of the funereal cypress.

Komel was thinking of the strange vicissitudes of her life, of her
lost lover, of the dear cottage where she was born, and the happy
home from which she had been so ruthlessly torn by violent hands. It
was an hour for quiet thoughtfulness, and her innocent bosom heaved
with almost audible motion as it realized the scene and her own
memories. She sat and looked up at those bright lamps hung in the
blue vault above her, until her eyes ached with the effort, and now
the train of thoughts in which she had indulged, at last started the
pearly drops upon her check, and dimmed her eyes. It was not often
that she gave way to tears, but her thoughts, the scene about her,
and everything, seemed to have combined to touch her tenderest
sensibilities.

In this mood, breathing the soft and gentle night breeze, she
gradually lost her consciousness, and fell asleep as quietly as a
babe might have done in its cradle, and presented a picture as pure
and innocent.

She dreamed, too, of home and all its happy associations. Once more,
in fancy, she was by her own cottage door; once more she breathed
her native mountain air, once more sat by the side of Aphiz, her
loved, dearly loved companion. Ah! how her dimpled cheeks were
wreathed in smiles while she slept; how happy and unconscious was
the beautiful slave. And now she seems to hear the song of her
native valley falling upon her ear as Aphiz used to sing it