uld be"----

"No advice, Saphir Ali--no remonstrances.... It is now too late!"

"They would be drowned like flies in wine. But it is now time to sleep."

"Sleep, say you! Sleep, to me! No, I have bidden farewell to sleep. It
is time for me to awaken. Have you examined the gun, Saphir Ali--is the
flint good? Has not the powder on the shelf become damp with blood?"

"What is the matter with you, Ammalat? What leaden secret weighs upon
your heart? Your face is terrible--your speech is yet more frightful."

"And my deeds shall be yet more dreadful. Is it not true, Saphir Ali, my
Seltanetta--is she not beautiful? Observe! _my_ Seltanetta. Is it
possible that these are the wedding songs, Saphir Ali? Yes, yes, yes! I
understand. 'Tis the jackals demanding their prey. Spirits and wild
beasts, be patient awhile--I will content you! Ho, wine--more wine! more
blood!... I tell you!"

Ammalat fell on his bed in a drunken insensibility. Foam oozed out of
his mouth: convulsive movements shook his whole body. He uttered
unintelligible words, mingled with groans. Saphir Ali carefully
undressed him, laid him in the bed, enveloped him in the coverings, and
sat up the rest of the night watching over his foster-brother, in vain
seeking in his head the explanation of the, to him, enigmatical speech
and conduct of Ammalat.

CHAPTER XII.

In the morning, before the departure of the detachment, the captain on
duty came to Colonel Verkhoffsky to present his report, and to receive
the orders for the day. After the customary exchange of words, he said,
with an alarmed countenance: "Colonel, I have to communicate a most
important thing: our yesterday's signal-man, a soldier of my company,
Hamitoff, heard the conversation of Ammalat Bek with his nurse in
Bouinaki. He is a Tartar of Kazan, and understands pretty well the
dialect of this country. As far as he could hear and understand, the
nurse assured the Bek that you, with the Shamkhal, are preparing to send
him off to the galleys. Ammalat flew into a passion; said, that he knew
all this from the Khan, and swore to kill you with his own hand. Not
trusting his ears, however, the soldier determined to tell you nothing,
but to watch all his steps. Yesterday evening, he says, Ammalat spoke
with a horseman arrived from afar. On taking leave, he said: 'Tell the
Khan, that to-morrow, by sunrise, all will be over. Let him be ready: I
shall soon see him.'"

"And is this all, Captain?" demand