Little did I
think, that while I was accusing him in my heart of cowardice, he was
dead, and his heart's blood had been poured out in my defence. Victor,
my dear Victor!" continued I, "how great has been my injustice, and what
can repay me for your loss?" and I threw myself down on the sofa, as if
frantic with grief.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Huckaback," observed the pacha, "it appears to me that in your younger
days you were a great scoundrel."

"I acknowledge it," replied the renegade; "but, in extenuation, your
highness must call to mind that at that time I was a Christian."

"By the beard of the Prophet, that is well said, and very true!" replied
the pacha.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The marquis and his brother were shocked at having so unintentionally
plunged me into affliction. They offered consolation; but finding their
endeavours fruitless, quitted the room, thinking it advisable to leave
me to myself. Cerise, for that was the name of the daughter, remained,
and after a short pause came to me, and in her silvery voice, as she
laid her hand upon my shoulder, addressed me:--

"Console yourself, my dear Felix;" but I made no answer. "How unhappy I
am!" said she: "it was in my defence that he lost his life: it was to
your courage that I am indebted for my preservation:--he is dead, and
you are miserable. Can nothing repay you for the loss of your
brother?--Nothing, Felix?"

I raised my head; her eyes were swimming with tears, and beaming with
love. As I resumed my seat upon the sofa, I drew her gently towards me.
She offered no resistance, and in a moment she had sunk down by my
side, as my arms entwined her beauteous form.

"Yes," murmured I, "Cerise, I am repaid." Smiling through her blushes,
she disengaged herself, and rose to depart. Returning once more at my
request, I imprinted a kiss upon her brow: she waved her hand, and
hastened out of the room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"That was a very nice girl, by your description," interrupted the pacha:
"pray what might you pay for such a girl in your country?"

"She was beyond all price," replied the renegade, with an absent air, as
if communing with times past. "Love is not to be bought. The Moslem
purchases the slave and blind submission to his will, but he makes not
love."

"No, he buys it rea