CHAPTER X. It was a fearful sight to see Marmion. THE weary hours of that gloomy day passed heavily to the young prince. They lingered by him in their flight, as if, fearing that his moments were drawing to a close, they would fain prolong his wretchedness, and keep him from the sweet sleep which awaited him, when time and its troubles should have ceased to agitate his aching heart. If, for a few moments, he was enabled to call off his thoughts from trials which were past, it was only to fix them upon others more severe which were yet in store for him. He gathered no confidence from the assurances of the hakim; he would not dream of hope; but in that stern insensibility with which a Moslem so often resigns himself to the decrees of fate, he awaited the doom which seemed inevitable. Gloomily and in silence he thus remained until evening began to draw near, looking upon every present moment as perhaps his last. But the fading light, which reminded him of the passage of the hours, revived, in some degree, his hopes. He had expected ere this to be visited with his master's vengeance. It warned him, also, that the time appointed by the calif for the questioning of the slave Khatoun had wellnigh passed. His heart drooped when he thought of the trial which awaited that sweet girl. But shall he hesitate now? No-his all, and more than all was at stake; and though the chances were fearfully against him, he resolved to play, with a careful and even hand, the game upon which this rich venture depended. Bracing his courage, he proceeded, though with a heavy heart, to prepare the young slave for her interview with the stern and suspicious calif, and escort her to the palace. He found her in the same solitary apartment which she had so long occupied, and from which she had not wished to be removed until after her interview with the calif, when she should have redeemed her fault, as she expressed it, and deserved the favour of her who was to be her future mistress. Her feebleness seemed to have increased rather than diminished. Her eyes were glassy and dilated, and their dark brightness contrasted strongly with the extreme pallor of her skin, giving to her countenance an expression wild and almost unearthly in its character. Her face seemed more emaciated than it was when he saw her the evening before, and her pale lips were compressed firmly together. Her breath was drawn quickly, and at times a deep inspiration or sob interrupted its regularity. She seemed as though she had been severely racked by a storm of vehement and convulsing emotions, from which she had come out, marked, indeed, by their power, but preserving her firmness, and the resolution which had been so assailed. 66 "The trial is awaiting thee, Khatoun," said the prince, approaching her. "Art thou prepared ?" "I am, my lord," she replied, without turning her eyes upon him. They were fixed vacantly in air. "Look upon me, Khatoun. Thou hast much changed since I last saw thee. Why is this? Dost thou repent thy purpose?" She bent her look towards him, and gazing in his face with a gleaming wildness, she replied, "Oh! I have had a fearful conflict. The passage to the tomb were light to its terrors. But I repent not. No! I am resolved. Do you not think," she continued, glaring upon him with a countenance in which a frightful sternness was as strongly depicted as such an expression could be in features so soft and feminine-"do you not think I am resolved?" "Speak not so strangely," said the prince, supporting her frail form against his bosom. "My soul is pierced with thy grief. I cannot bear to see thee thus." "There, then!" she exclaimed; the rigidity which dwelt upon her features melting into a flood of tears. "But it has unnerved me. I was firm, but now-ready to tell that tale-but-" "Recall thy fortitude," said Giafar, interrupting her; "but not with it that strange gloom which but a moment since sat upon thy face. The calif even now awaits thy coming. Mind it not; the trial will not equal thy fears, or, at the worst, it will soon be past. Thou wilt this night rest sweetly after thy generous task, the sweeter for the recollection of thy fidelity and kindness." "Shall I sleep thus, my lord ?—and to-night? I had a thought like this. My griefs will all be ended then, to-night, thou sayst ?" "Doubtless they will, Khatoun. This trial over, and it shall be my care that no sorrow nor misfortune shall approach thee. In the fairest halls of my palace, and in the presence of my grateful wife, thy life shall pass calmly away, untroubled, undisturbed-unless it be" he added, and he trembled as he spoke-" by the blow which shall fall with a heavier weight upon me and upon my house. Thou shalt not fail of a shelter while one of my name and race lives to protect thee." "I had forgotten," she exclaimed, observing his emotion. "Come, I am ready. The night is here the hours are passing. Come, we may be too late." "Wilt thou be firm ?" inquired the prince. "Do not fear me-I shall," was the reply. Giafar, trembling, supported that trembling girl to her litter. He placed her therein with kind and sedulous care, and having directed the slaves to proceed at a slow pace towards the royal palace, he turned his own steps thither also. His courage wavered as he entered his master's presence, but was instantly reassured by the open brow with which the calif greeted him, and by the expression of satisfaction that was diffused over his stern features. He found him in earnest conversation with Gabriel Bact Jeschoua. Haroun turned for a moment from his discourse with the physician, to welcome the prince. "Thou art come in time," he said. "Is the slave with thee, Giafar ?" "She waits without, my lord." "It is well. I doubt not but thou hast spoken truly, hakim,” said the calif, continuing the discourse in which he had been engaged when the prince entered; "thou wouldst not trifle with me, as I think." The face of the old man was clothed in imperturbable gravity. No emotion, not the slightest shade of feeling, flitted across his solemn and sagacious visage, or disturbed, in the most minute degree, the formality of his settled features. "Far be it from me, may it please the Commander of the Faithful," he replied, "to deceive thee in the smallest matter, still less in a case of such magnitude, such importance. Even if I would do this, it were perilous, in sooth." "Thy wisdom does not much mislead thee, Gabriel," replied the calif, with a grim smile. "Thy rarest drugs would serve thee little, if, |