paratively with the inclosures in its vicinity, until it
reached the village. It was surrounded by high stone walls, which
every now and then the dark spiral forms of a cypress or a cedar would
overtop, and in the more distant and elevated part rose a tall palm
tree, bending its graceful and languid head, on which the sunbeam
glittered. It was the first palm that Tancred had ever seen, and his
heart throbbed as he beheld that fair and sacred tree.

As he approached the garden, Tancred observed that its portal was open:
he stopped before it, and gazed upon its walks of lemon trees with
delight and curiosity. Tancred had inherited from his mother a passion
for gardens; and an eastern garden, a garden in the Holy Land, such
as Gethsemane might have been in those days of political justice when
Jerusalem belonged to the Jews; the occasion was irresistible; he could
not withstand the temptation of beholding more nearly a palm tree; and
he entered.

Like a prince in a fairy tale, who has broken the mystic boundary of
some enchanted pleasaunce, Tancred traversed the alleys which were
formed by the lemon and pomegranate tree, and sometimes by the myrtle
and the rose. His ear caught the sound of falling water, bubbling with
a gentle noise; more distinct and more forcible every step that he
advanced. The walk in which he now found himself ended in an open space
covered with roses; beyond them a gentle acclivity, clothed so thickly
with a small bright blue flower that it seemed a bank of turquoise, and
on its top was a kiosk of white marble, gilt and painted; by its side,
rising from a group of rich shrubs, was the palm, whose distant crest
had charmed Tancred without the gate.

In the centre of the kiosk was the fountain, whose alluring voice
had tempted Tancred to proceed further than he had at first dared to
project. He must not retire without visiting the waters which had been
speaking to him so long. Following the path round the area of roses,
he was conducted to the height of the acclivity, and entered the kiosk;
some small beautiful mats were spread upon its floor, and, reposing upon
one of them, Tancred watched the bright clear water as it danced and
sparkled in its marble basin.

The reader has perhaps experienced the effect of falling water. Its
lulling influence is proverbial. In the present instance, we must
remember that Tancred had been exposed to the meridian fervour of a
Syrian sun, that he had been the whole da