The Sultan seemed, of late, scarcely contented to have her from his side for a single hour, and even received his officials and gave audience, with her in the presence oftentimes, first motioning her, on such occasions, to cover her face, after the style of the Turkish women; but even this precaution was rarely taken, for Lalla was not used to it, and the Sultan pressed nothing upon her that he found to be in any way disagreeable to her feelings.  So when the officer announced a stranger who had shown a purse which bore the Sultan’s arms as his talisman, he was bidden to admit him at once.

The slave turned her back by chance as the stranger entered, and hearing not his steps she still bent absorbedly over the roll of engravings while the new comer with profound respect told the Sultan that until a moment since he had not known that it was his good fortune to have served his highness, and that perhaps had he realized this he would not then be before him.—­But the monarch generously re-assured him by his kindness, and repeated his offer of any service in his power.

“I feel that I am already a heavy pensioner on your bounty, excellency,” he replied.

“Not so; your bravery and prompt assistance stood us in aid at an important moment.—­Speak then, and if there be aught in which we can further your wishes or good, it will afford us pleasure.”

“It is of a matter, which would hardly interest your excellency that I would speak.”

“We are the best judge of that matter.”

“Shall I tell my story then, excellency?”

“Ay, speak on,” said the monarch, resuming his pipe, and pouring forth a lazy cloud of smoke from his mouth.

“Excellency,” he commenced, “I am it very humble mountaineer of the Caucasus, but until these few months past have been as happy as heart could wish.  True, we have often been called upon to confront the Cossack, but that is a duty and a pleasure, and the tide of battle once over, we have returned with renewed joy to our cottage homes.  Our hearths are rude and homely, but our wants are few, and our hearts are warm among our native hills.

“Suddenly, a hawk swooped down upon our mountain side, and bore away the sweetest and most innocent dove that nestled there, making desolate many hearts, and causing an aged mother and father to weep tears of bitter anguish.  I loved that being, excellency, so well that my whole soul was hers, and she too in turn loved me.  Broken hearted and most miserable I have wandered hither to seek her, for hither I found that she had been brought, and perhaps even now is the unhappy slave of some heartless one, and is pining for the home she has been torn from.  If you would bless me, excellency, ay, bless yourself by a noble deed, then aid me to find her in this great capital.”

The monarch listened with unfeigned interest, he, had a strong dash of romance in his disposition, besides which he could feel for the disconsolate lover now, since his own heart bad been so awakened to itself.