t it was reserved for Fakredeen to succeed in that which had
baffled Mehemet Ali.

Eva took the more sanguine view that becomes youth and woman. She had
faith in Fakredeen. Though his position was not as powerful as that of
the great viceroy, it was, in her opinion, more legitimate. He seemed
indicated as the natural ruler of the mountain. She had faith, too,
in his Arabian origin. With Eva, what is called society assumed the
character of a continual struggle between Asia and the North. She
dreaded the idea that, after having escaped the crusaders, Syria should
fall first under the protection, and then the colonisation of some
European power. A link was wanted in the chain of resistance which
connected the ranges of Caucasus with the Atlas. She idealised her
foster-brother into a hero, and saw his standard on Mount Lebanon, the
beacon of the oriental races, like the spear of Shami, or the pavilion
of Abd-el-Kader. Eva had often influenced her father for the advantage
of Fakredeen, but at last even Eva felt that she should sue in vain.

A year before, involved in difficulties which it seemed no combination
could control, and having nearly occasioned the occupation of Syria by
a united French and English force, Fakredeen burst out a-cry-ing like
a little boy, and came whimpering to Eva, as if somebody had broken his
toy or given him a beating. Then it was that Eva had obtained for him
a final assistance from her father, the condition being, that this
application should be the last.

Eva had given him jewels, had interested other members of her family
in his behalf, and effected for him a thousand services, which only
a kind-hearted and quick-witted woman could devise. While Fakredeen
plundered her without scruple and used her without remorse, he doted on
her; he held her intellect in absolute reverence; a word from her guided
him; a look of displeasure, and his heart ached. As long as he was under
the influence of her presence, he really had no will, scarcely an idea
of his own. He spoke only to elicit her feelings and opinions. He had a
superstition that she was born under a fortunate star, and that it
was fatal to go counter to her. But the moment he was away, he would
disobey, deceive, and, if necessary, betray her, loving her the same all
the time. But what was to be expected from one whose impressions were
equally quick and vivid, who felt so much for himself, and so much
for others, that his life seemed a perpetua