“The very idea looks to me like an impossibility,” answered the young officer.

“Nothing is impossible where will and energy combine.”

“What is your plan?”

“You have resolved to fly from here, you tell me at least, by to-morrow night.”

“Yes.  I have purchased that skimmer of the waters, the Petrel, and I shall sail at that time with Zillah, for the Russian coast, or Trebizond on the south of the Black Sea.”

“Very good; now why not take this gentle slave of the Sultan’s along with you?”

“But how to get possession of her? that’s the question,” answered Selim.

“You know I have free access to the palace, and could easily inform her of any plan for her release.”

“One half of the trouble is over then at once, if she will second your efforts.”

“Well, I will visit the harem this very day.  I have good excuse for doing so, and will tell Komel—­”

“Komel!” interrupted Selim.

“Yes, that it the slave’s name; why, what makes you look so thoughtful?”

“I do not know,” said Selim; “the name sounded familiar to me at first, but go on.”

“Well, I will tell her what is proposed, and get her advice as to any mode that she may think best to adopt in regard to her escaping.”

“But do you think she would prefer to go with me to an uncertain home, to the luxury she enjoys?”

“Of course you will take her to her home on the Circassian coast.  That must be the understanding, and I will remunerate you for the extra trouble and expense.”

“Never!” said the officer, honestly.  “These Turks have paid me well for my services, and I have already a purse heavy with gold, after purchasing the Petrel, and if need be, I can make her pay.”

“Have it as you will; it matters not to me, so that she reaches her home, and the Turk is foiled.”

“I am a rover myself, and the Circassian coast would suit me quite as well as any other for a season.  From whence does she come?”

“Anapa.”

“Anapa? that shall be my destination,” said Selim, at once.

“Hark! what is that?” asked the physician, turning to the back part of the cabin.

“Nothing, but a young friend of mine; he’s asleep, I think.”

“Asleep; why he’s moving, and must have overheard us, I am sure.”

“No fear.”

“But what we have said is no more nor less than downright treason.”

“That’s true.”

“And would cost us both our heads if it should be reported.”

“He wont report it if he has heard it; he bears the Sultan no good-will, I can assure you, for it is only a day or two since that he was sentenced to death by him for some trivial cause.”

“What was it?” asked the Armenian.

“Getting a peep at some of his favorites, I believe, or some such affair.”

“Do you remember his name?” asked the Armenian, as the subject of this conversation came out of one of the state-rooms in the cabin, and approached them.