ory, his sacred nation, his
imperial bride; these, these were nothing. Their worth had vanished with
the creative soul that called them into action. The pure sympathies
of nature alone remained, and all his thought and grief, all his
intelligence, all his emotion, were centred in his sister.

It was the seventh morning. A guard entered at an unaccustomed hour,
and, sticking a torch into a niche in the wall, announced that a person
was without who had permission to speak to the prisoner. They were the
first human accents that had met the ear of Alroy during his captivity,
which seemed to him an age, a long dark period, that cancelled all
things. He shuddered at the harsh tones. He tried to answer, but his
unaccustomed lips refused their office. He raised his heavy arms, and
endeavoured to signify his consciousness of what had been uttered. Yet,
indeed, he had not listened to the message without emotion. He looked
forward to the grate with strange curiosity; and, as he looked, he
trembled. The visitor entered, muffled in a dark caftan. The guard
disappeared; and the caftan falling to the ground, revealed Honain.

'My beloved Alroy,' said the brother of Jabaster; and he advanced, and
pressed him to his bosom. Had it been Miriam, Alroy might have at
once expired; but the presence of this worldly man called back his
worldliness. The revulsion of his feelings was wonderful. Pride, perhaps
even hope, came to his aid; all the associations seemed to counsel
exertion; for a moment he seemed the same Alroy.

'I rejoice to find at least thee safe, Honain.'

'I also, if my security may lead to thine.'

'Still whispering hope!'

'Despair is the conclusion of fools.'

'O Honain! 'tis a great trial. I can play my part, and yet methinks
'twere better we had not again met. How is Schirene?'

'Thinking of thee.'

'Tis something that she can think. My mind has gone. Where's Miriam?'

'Free.'

'That's something. Thou hast done that. Good, good Honain, be kind to
that sweet child, if only for my sake. Thou art all she has left.'

'She hath thee.'

'Her desolation.'

'Live and be her refuge.'

'How's that? These walls! Escape? No, no; it is impossible.'

'I do not deem it so.'

'Indeed! I'll do anything. Speak! Can we bribe? can we cleave their
skulls? can we----'

'Calm thyself, my friend. There is no need of bribes, no need of
bloodshed. We must make terms.'

'Terms! We might have made them on the plain of Nehauend.