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energy with which she would clasp the little one to her bosom; but otherwise all was stillness and hope.
One day, when she had been unusually ill, and we all supposed she was about to die, she pressed my hand feebly, and whis. pered, “Will you ask George to see me once more ?" I intmediately repaired to the library, and told Mr. Macdonough the dying request of his wife. At first, he made a motion toward the door, then, suddenly checking himself, he said in a determined tone, “I had better not. It will be painful to us both.' I will await the event here. " I returned to Harriet, but I had no courage to say her request was refused. She listened eagerly to every sound for n while; then looking in my face mournfully, she said. “He will not come!”. My tears answered. her. She looked upward for a moment, with an expression of extreme agony: but never spoke again.
Days were fast growing into weeks, and yet the large Caravan, which was holling its weary way to the gates 6f Bas: sors saw nothing around it but sand— sand. Scarcelv a shrub; or woëd, or blade of grass had appeared to relieve the eye of the toi' worn wanderers from the eternal sameness of the . scene around since their last encamgment at a watering place too scanty to supply their wants. Days had passes; since then, their princi, pilguide had perished of thirst and weari less, and now there was not one amongst that numerous company who could, with any degree of certainty, point out the pro per course to the city, whose gates they would have grected as those of their Phrophet's paradise. . . . In this emergency a halt had been call. ed, and the leaders had met to deliberate. As no one knew the direct course to Bissora, they resolved to continue that which they were still holding, until some. !hing should occur to relieve them from their doubts: two eamels, whose, owners had died the preceding day, were killed, -arid their blood, and the small quantity of water still remaining in their stomachs, • - . . t
- The Column of the Desert. . . . .
|row's shot beyond it lies a grove of palms and abundance of the sweetest water in
the desert!” A loud shout of joy greeted the Fakir's announcement. Heat, fatigue,
and thirst in an instant were forgoňen.
The cameis, either conscious of the prox. imity of water, or goaded on by their impatient drivers, advanced with renewed energy; and the whole cavalcade which, but a moment before, -
merchandise, placed conveniently for him,
their happiness had been increased by the
brave. When about ten years of age, his
puffing grateful odors, from the amber tipped pipe of his neighbor, a rich merchant of Aleppo“It appears, Hakim,” observed the latter, “thou hast crossed the desert, by this route, before to-day; the objects seem to be familiar to thee.” “Thou hast spoken truly, most noble Mizraim,” replied the Fakir: “twice, before now, have I reposed beneath these palms; and once have I passed sufficiently near to behold yon pillar rising like a faint cloud on the horizon”— - - “Thanks to the man who reared that column,” interposed another merchant, who was reclining near; “doubtless it was erected by some good Mussulman, as a beacon to the doubting traveller!” “By no means.” rejoined the Fakir, “it was erected for a far different purpose; and if you would like to listen to the legend connected with it I shall have great pleasure in gratifying your curiosity.” The proposal was joyfully acceded to. It was immediately noised around that the Fakir was about to gratify his fellow-tra7ellers with a tale; and the scattered groups lost no time in betaking themselves to Hakim's neighbourhood, and arranging themselves within good hearing distance. That worthy, meanwhile, under pretence of finishing his pipe, waited until a respectable audience had assembled around him then mounting with his mat to a base of
he began as follows:— “Many years have now elapsed since Ali Beid war lived in this neighborhood, chief of a powerful tribe of Arabs. His tent was rich with the spoils of the nume. rous caravans which had fallen into his power. He had married Akzeida, the daughter of a powerful chieftain of a distant tribe, and ere the expiration of a year
birth of a son; and when, about theee years afterwards, his. Alzeida bore him a daughter, there seemed to be nothing more required to complete their joy. The boy who was named Mizron, grew up full of promise—active, handsome, and
father, at the youth's earnest entreaties. had allowed him to accompany a small band of his followers, led by a faithful ser
vant, to intercept a rich but weakly guard
rents to an union with the tribe of Ali
some more desirable alliance. . .
Isasian, she would remain for eversio- - - - ". . . . . . . . . . . ."Whilst thus engaged, and w Yad dismounted to assist his leader in-pla--, . ring Ayezā thóre confortably on the sad- . . . ile, the trampling of a steed was sudden-...". ly, heard, and a bright lance, was seen . . ilāshing in the moonlight in the riders. hand. The horseman who bore the maid-, . gn-immediately urged'his charger to its littmost speed, at the same time desiring his three companions to oppose the progress . . of the pursuer. ... Haslan, for it was indeed . . he, perceiving that everything depended off his speed, attempted to follow; but was . .
Dajii was the idea of allowing their name to perish, and the lime, which had
oy palms. It was one of those delight.
.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * . ‘. . . . . . . ‘. . . . . . . . . . o * . . . . . The Golumn of the Desert: . . . . . . . . . . . f61. --- --------- -—t
the at lengt - - - - - - -ren's would consent to her union with
been transmitted unbrokeh, through a thousand generations, to become extinct, yet so great was the dislike of her pa.
Hasan, ihat days and even weeks elaps. tl and still they remained uncertain whether to accept one of the two alteria: tives, or to compel their daughter to serii, "Haslan, forbidden to approach the tent of Ali Bediwar, had for several weeks *joyed stolen interviews with his beloved in the soft hour of twilight beneath these
sevenings of an oriental summer, when
, the cloudless moon bends, like an angel of beauty and benevolence, over the earth.
and seems to diffuse a. refreshing coolness on through the thirsty...desert. Ayeza
had contrived to escape unobserved from
her father's tent, to meet Haslan, beneath
well known tree; : Surprised at not
*ing him, she advanced a few paces
*ng the outskirts of the grove which ommanded a view of the path which he
was actustomed to take. She had not |.
oceeded many steps, however, when a
- o dashed from an adjoining “Haslan!' she exclaimed. . . . . . ." "The horseman replied not, but in a onent was at her side. Bending from *saddle, he seized her as she was turn. olo fly, raised her from the ground, and oted her before him; then, pressing his *d with the sharp stirrup, he sped like *Arrow across the desert. Perceiving that she was betrayed, she uttered a pierc"g shrick, and endeavored; in the first "Pulse of terror, to throw herself from the horse; but finding all her efforts ineffectual, * called aloud on the name of Hassan, **hausted by her emotions, she faint. *in the arms of her betrayer. o: oil whistle, he was soon joined by three other horsemen, who had waited *ion shouls be offered to the maiden's one, and deeming themselves safe, for
intercepted by the nearest horseman,
longer, glimmered in the moonlight, for his favourite mare, he now gained on the succi by the two surviving companions of the fallen; but cre, long he had far distan
and sank upon the sand. ... The rider extri
dexterity, parried with his lance—his only
- - -
of Haslan had penetrated his bosom. . . .
** * * * - - - - - -- * • * * * ... ." . . - ** * ** . • * * - ." - - . . . . . - - - . . . . * * *. * * * * * * * ..". - " - - - - - - * * * * -- . . . . . . . . . . • * *, . . ... • . - ". . . . . . . * - - - - - - - - - -- - * - - - -* * - - -
géd his piirsueis, and had reached the object of his search.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . “Restore your ill-gotten prize,’ he exAllah! this moment is .
buried his lance in the 'bréast ot his oppo. onent's steed. The noble animal reared.
weapon-the attacks of his adversary; at': length however, receiving a blow upon . the handle of his spear, his weapon was cleft in twain; but before his dpponent.
could recover himself, the headless lance
The next moment the intruder's saddle was empty-his courser galloping wildly." over the desert, and Haslan's speñromo .
here was blood upon its point. Urging."
flying captor of his betrothed, himself pur.
"Concealment, within call, lest. any op. ".. “Ere: the coohat had well commenced, .. Ayezno revived partly by: the voice of . iHaslan, and partly by the shock occa-'. sioned by the fall of the horse on which .