has not been palliated with the excuse of youth scarce conscious what it does."
Her thoughts travelled far over past years, while the sun rose higher, and while the man whose existence she had given back dreamed of her with the waking of the day, as of one so fair above his love, that
"No head save some world-genius should rest
Above the treasures of that perfect breast."
She remained still and silent at the casement till the distant call of the drums, as the Soldan went up to the mosque for the sunrise prayers, died softly away on the air.
"I will save him at least. One sharp blow—and perhaps he will forget. Pride will aid him; and if we never meet again, I shall remain only a dream to him—a dream without pain," she said, half aloud. And, for the moment, a darker shadow swept over her face; she remembered loyal eyes that had gazed their eager passion into hers; she remembered leonine strength that would have been felled into its tomb but for her; she remembered that the man who had sought her with such untiring patience on the clue of one frail memory, would not forget in a day, in a year. But her resolve was not shaken.
"I will save him if he will be saved;—he, at least,
