“This is singular,” said Selim, surprised at his earnestness.

“It would not seem so had I dared to tell you my story at first.”

“Then you know the girl?” asked the physician and Selim, in a breath.

“Know her?  I have been her playmate from childhood.  We have loved and cherished each other until our very souls seemed blended into one.”

“Then how came she separated from you, and now in the Sultan’s harem?” asked the Armenian.

“Ay,” continued Selim, “how was it that I saw her offered for sale in the public bazaar?”

“Have patience with me and I will tell you all, of both her history and my own.”

Aphiz then related to them the story that is already familiar to the reader, and seeing that those with whom he had to deal were in no way particularly partial to the Sultan, he told word for word the whole truth, even from the hour when he had saved him from the Bedouins, to that when he had been cast into the sea.

All this but the more incited both Selim and the Armenian to strive for Komel’s release, and sitting there together, the trio strove how best they could manage the affair.  The Armenian’s possessing the entree to the palace was a matter of intense importance to the furtherance of the object, and whatever plan should be adopted it was agreed that he should seek the harem and communicate it to Komel, thus obtaining her aid in its execution.

“Doubtless she thinks me dead,” said Aphiz; “for the Sultan would take care to tell her that.”

“That’s true, and so let her think, and we will manage an agreeable surprise for her.”

“As you will; but let us to this business this very night,” said the impatient Aphiz.

“That we will, and right heartily,” said Selim, who hastened to his young wife to tell her that she was to have a dear, beautiful companion in their proposed voyage, and that she would be on board before the morning.

Aphiz was now all impatience.  He could scarcely wait for the hours to pass that should bring about the period allotted for the attempt to release her whom he so fondly, and until now so hopelessly, loved.  In the meantime the good Armenian physician, with redoubled interest, now that he had learned Aphiz’s story, sought the Sultan’s harem, where he quietly broached to Komel the plan that had been agreed upon whereby she should be transported once more to her distant home and the scenes of her childhood.

CHAPTER XIII.

The escape from the harem.

On one of those soft and glorious nights such as occur so often beneath the eastern skies, when there was no moon and yet a blaze of light pouring down from the myriad of bright stars, that one would not have missed the absence of the Queen of Night; the walks of the Sultan’s gardens, fragrant with flowers and sweet blossoms, were drinking in of the dewy hour, still and silently, save at the point where we once before introduced the person of Komel.  The spot from whence she had listened to that tender and dearly loved song of her native valley, and nearly in the same place she sat now, again evidently listening and expecting the coming of some person or preconcerted signal.