The next morning I rose, that I might contemplate my person in the mirror, and I at once perceived the alteration which had taken place.  There was a certain degree of distortion of features which I thought would never be removed.  I felt, that although the sultan might respect me, I could not expect the same influence and undivided attention as before.  With a heavy heart I threw myself on the couch, and planned for the future.  I reflected upon the uncertain tenure by which the affections of a despot are held, and I resolved to part.  Still I loved him, loved him in spite of all his cruelty; but my resolution was made.  For six weeks I refused to see the sultan, although he inquired every day, and sent me magnificent presents.  At the end of that period I had recovered, and all that remained from the effects of the bowstring was a slight wrinkling of the skin from distension, and the deep blue mark round my neck which I have just shown to your highness.

When I first admitted the sultan, he was much affected.  “Zara,” said he, mournfully, “I swear by the holy prophet that I meant not to give the signal.”

“I believe you, my lord,” replied I, calmly.

“Neither did I intend that your brother should suffer.  I meant to have gained your favour by his pardon.”

“He was a traitor, my lord, an ungrateful traitor, and deserved his death.  So may all like him perish.”

“And now, Zara, may I hope for your forgiveness?”

“On one condition, sultan; and swear that you will grant what I require.”

“I do, by Allah!”

“It is, that you send me back to my own country.”

Not to detain your highness by dwelling too long upon what passed, it will suffice to say, that notwithstanding the entreaties of the sultan, and the pleadings of my own heart, my resolution was immovable.  Every arrangement was made for my departure, and during the preparations, the sultan was continually with me, persuading me to abandon the idea.  The magnificence and liberality which he showed in the costly presents bestowed upon me, that I might return with honour and wealth to my own country, more than once made me waver in my resolution.  The evening before my departure he made a last attempt, but in vain.  My refusal was at least softened by the tears which I shed, for now that the time of departure was so near, I felt how truly, how devotedly I was attached to him.  We parted; I threw myself on the couch, and wept till the dawn of day, when I was summoned to commence my journey.

As your highness may be aware is the custom, when my brother was executed, all his property was seized by the sultan, and distributed among the favourites.  The new capitan pacha who succeeded my brother was called Abdallah, and was said to be an excellent soldier.  Part of my brother’s property was made over to him, and among the rest the Georgian slave, who had been the ruin of my brother, and had so fatally