“Come in, sir; I feel that I can trust you.”

Philip entered.  The door was then closed and made secure.

“We have no time to lose, maiden,” said Philip:  “but tell me your name, that I may address you as I ought.”

“My name is Amine,” replied she, retreating a little.

“I thank you for that little confidence; but I must not dally.  What arms have you in the house, and have you ammunition?”

“Both.  I wish that my father would come home.”

“And so do I,” replied Philip, “devoutly wish he would, before these murderers come; but not, I trust, while the attack is making, for there’s a carbine loaded expressly for his head, and if they make him prisoner, they will not spare his life, unless his gold and your person are given in ransom.  But the arms, maiden—­where are they?”

“Follow me,” replied Amine, leading Philip to an inner room on the upper floor.  It was the sanctum of her father, and was surrounded with shelves filled with bottles and boxes of drugs.  In one corner was an iron chest, and over the mantel-piece were a brace of carbines and three pistols.

“They are all loaded,” observed Amine, pointing to them, and laying on the table the one which she had held in her hand.

Philip took down the arms, and examined all the primings.  He then took up from the table the pistol which Amine had laid there, and threw open the pan.  It was equally well prepared.  Philip closed the pan, and with a smile observed,

“So this was meant for me, Amine?”

“No—­not for you—­but for a traitor, had one gained admittance.”

“Now, maiden,” observed Philip, “I shall station myself at the casement which you opened, but without a light in the room.  You may remain here, and can turn the key for your security.”

“You little know me,” replied Amine.  “In that way at least I am not fearful; I must remain near you and reload the arms—­a task in which I am well practised.”

“No, no,” replied Philip; “you might be hurt.”

“I may.  But think you I will remain here idly, when I can assist one who risks his life for me?  I know my duty, sir, and I shall perform it.”

“You must not risk your life, Amine,” replied Philip; “my aim will not be steady, if I know that you’re in danger.  But I must take the arms into the other chamber, for the time is come.”

Philip, assisted by Amine, carried the carbines and pistols into the adjoining chamber; and Amine then left Philip, carrying with her the light.  Philip, as soon as he was alone, opened the casement and looked out—­there was no one to be seen; he listened, but all was silent.  The moon was just rising above the distant hill, but her light was dimmed by fleecy clouds, and Philip watched for a few minutes; at length he heard a whispering below.  He looked out, and could distinguish through the dark the four expected assailants, standing close to the door of the house.  He walked away softly from the window, and went into the next room to Amine, whom he found busy preparing the ammunition.