“Oh, God grant that you may never learn what it is to betray; that you may never forget me for another!”

“Ah, Ammalat, within these four days I have learned how bitter to me was separation!  For a long time I have not seen my brothers Noutsal and Sourkha, and I meet them with pleasure; but without them I do not grieve:  without you I wish not to live!”

“For thee I am ready to die, my morning-star:  to thee I give my soul—­not only life, my beloved!”

The sound of footsteps interrupted the lovers’ talk:  it was Seltanetta’s attendant.  All three went to congratulate the Khan, who was consoled, and unaffectedly delighted.

Ammalat related in a few words how the affair had occurred.  “Hardly had I remarked that my comrade had fallen when I fired at the beast, flying, with a ball which broke his jaw.  The monster with a terrific roar began to whirl round, to leap, to roll, sometimes darting towards me, and then again, tormented by the agony, bounding aside.  At this moment, striking him with the butt of my gun on the skull, I broke it.  I pursued him a long time as soon as he betook himself to flight, following him by his bloody track:  the day began to fail, and when I plunged my dagger into the throat of the fallen tiger, dark night had fallen upon the earth.  Would I or not, I was compelled to pass the night with the rocks for a bed-chamber, and the wolves and jackals for companions.  The morning was dark and rainy; the clouds around my head poured their waters on me like a river.  At ten paces before my face nothing could be seen.  Without a view of the sun, ignorant of the country, in vain I wandered round and round:  weariness and hunger overwhelmed me.  A partridge which I shot with my pistol restored my strength for a while; but I could not find my way out of my rocky grave.  In the evening the only sounds I could hear were the murmur of water falling from a cliff, or the whistling of the eagles’ wings as they flew through the clouds; but at night the audacious jackals raised, three paces off, their lamentable song.  This morning the sun rose brightly, and I myself arose more cheerful, and directed my steps towards the east.  I shortly afterwards heard a cry and a shot:  it was your messengers.  Overcome by heat, I went to drink the pure water of the fountain by the old mosque, and there I met Seltanetta.  Thanks be to you, and glory to God!”

“Glory to God, and honour to you!” exclaimed the Sultan, embracing him.  “But your courage has nearly cost us your life, and even that of your comrade.  If you had delayed a day, he would have been obliged to dance the Sezghinka in the air.  You have returned just in time.  Djemboula’t, a famous cavalier of Little Kabarda, has sent to invite you to a foray against the Russians.  I would willingly buy beforehand your glory; as much as you won in your last battle.  The time is short; tomorrow’s sun must see you ready.”

This news was by no means unwelcome to Ammalat:  he decided instantly; answering, that he would go with pleasure.  He felt sure that a distinguished reputation as a cavalier would ensure him future success.