tar of my soul!" as they drank health
and consolation from her glances. She knew not what was passing
within her; she could not distinguish whether she was on the earth,
or floating in the air; changing colours flitted on her face. At
length she ventured, in a trembling voice, to ask him about his
health. One must be a Tartar--who accounts it a sin and an offence
to speak a word to a strange woman, who never sees any thing female
but the veil and the eye-brows--to conceive how deeply agitated was
the ardent Bek, by the looks and words of the beautiful girl
addressed so tenderly to him. A soft flame ran through his heart,
notwithstanding his weakness.

"Oh, I am very well, now," he answered, endeavouring to rise;
"so well, that I am ready to die, Seltanetta."

"Allah sakhla-suen!" (God protect you!) she replied. "Live, live long!
Would you not regret life?"

"At a sweet moment sweet is death, Seltanetta! But if I live a
hundred years, a more delightful moment than this can never be found!"

Seltanetta did not understand the words of the stranger; but she
understood his look--she understood the expression of his voice. She
blushed yet more deeply; and, making a sign with her hand that he
should repose, disappeared from the chamber.

Among the mountaineers there are many very skilful surgeons, chiefly
in cases of wounds and fractures; but Ammalat, more than by herb or
plaster, was cured by the presence of the charming mountain-maid.
With the agreeable hope of seeing her in his dreams, he fell asleep,
and awoke with joy, knowing that he should meet her in reality. His
strength rapidly returned, and with his strength grew his attachment
to Seltanetta.

Ammalat was married; but, as it often happens in the East, only from
motives of interest. He had never seen his bride before his marriage,
and afterwards found no attraction in her which could awake his
sleeping heart. In course of time, his wife became blind; and this
circumstance loosened still more a tie founded on Asiatic customs
rather than affection. Family disagreements with his father-in-law
and uncle, the Shamkhal, still further separated the young couple,
and they were seldom together. Was it strange, under the
circumstances, that a young man, ardent by nature, self-willed by
nature, should be inspired with a new love? To be with her was his
highest happiness--to await her arrival his most delightful
occupation. He ever felt a tremor when he heard her voice: