“Very angry.”

“May I know for what?”

“For much.  For some time past he has begun to drop poison into the honey of his friendship:  and at last these drops have filled and overflowed the cup.  I cannot bear such lukewarm friends!  He is liberal with his advice, not sparing with his lectures; that is, in every thing that costs him neither risk nor trouble.”

“I understand, I understand!  I suppose he would not let you go to Avar!”

“If you bore my heart in your bosom you would understand how I felt when I received such a refusal.  He lured me on with that hope, and then all at once repulsed my most earnest prayer—­dashed into dust, like a crystal kalian, my fondest hopes....  Akhmet Khan was surely softened, when he sent word that he wished to see me; and I cannot fly to him, or hurry to Seltanetta.”

“Put yourself, brother, in his place, and then say whether you yourself would not have acted in the same way.”

“No, not so!  I should have said plainly from the very beginning, ‘Ammalat, do not expect any help from me.’  I even now ask him not for help.  I only beg him not to hinder me.  Yet no!  He, hiding from me the sun of all my joy, assures me that he does this from interest in me—­that this will hereafter bring me fortune.  Is not this a fine anodyne?”

“No, my friend!  If this is really the case, the sleeping-draught is given to you as to a person on whom they wish to perform an operation.  You are thinking only of your love, and Verkhoffsky has to keep your honour and his own without spot; and you are both surrounded by ill-wishers.  Believe me, either thus or otherwise, it is he alone who can cure you.”

“Who asks him to cure me?  This divine malady of love is my only joy:  and to deprive me of it is to tear out my heart, because it cannot beat at the sound of a drum!”——­

At this moment a strange Tartar entered the tent, looked suspiciously round, and bending down his head, laid his slippers before Ammalat—­according to Asiatic custom, this signified that he requested a private conversation.  Ammalat understood him, made a sign with his head, and both went out into the open air.  The night was dark, the fires were going out, and the chain of sentinels extended far before them.  “Here we are alone,” said Ammalat Bek to the Tartar:  “who art thou, and what dost thou want?”

“My name is Samit:  I am an inhabitant of Derbend, of the sect of Souni:  and now am at present serving in the detachment of Mussulman cavalry.  My commission is of greater consequence to you than to me.... The eagle loves the mountains!”

Ammalat shuddered, and looked suspiciously at the messenger.  This was a watchword, the key of which Sultan Akhmet had previously written to him.  “How can he but love the mountains?” ... he replied; “In the mountains there are many lambs for the eagles, and much silver for men.”

“And much steel for the valiant,” (yigheeds.)