the sun reached
its meridian height, Tancred sank into a profound slumber. Fakredeen
rushed away to tell Eva, who had now retired into the innermost
apartments of the pavilion of Amalek; Baroni never quitted the tent of
his lord. The sun set; the same beautiful rosy tint suffused the tombs
and temples of the city as on the evening of their first forced arrival:
still Tancred slept. The camels returned from the river, the lights
began to sparkle in the circle of black tents: still Tancred slept. He
slept during the day, and he slept during the twilight, and, when the
night came, still Tancred slept. The silver lamp, fed by the oil of the
palm tree, threw its delicate white light over the couch on which he
rested. Mute, but ever vigilant, Fakredeen and Baroni gazed on their
friend and master: still Tancred slept.

It seemed a night that would never end, and, when the first beam of the
morning came, the Emir and his companion mutually recognised on their
respective countenances an expression of distrust, even of terror. Still
Tancred slept; in the same posture and with the same expression, unmoved
and pale. Was it, indeed, sleep? Baroni touched his wrist, but could
find no pulse; Fakredeen held his bright dagger over the mouth, yet its
brilliancy was not for a moment clouded. But he was not cold.

The brow of Baroni was knit with deep thought, and his searching eye
fixed upon the recumbent form; Fakredeen, frightened, ran away to Eva.

'I am frightened, because you are frightened,' said Fakredeen, 'whom
nothing ever alarms. O Rose of Sharon! why are you so pale?'

'It is a stain upon our tents if this youth be lost,' said Eva in a low
voice, yet attempting to speak with calmness.

'But what is it on me!' exclaimed Fakredeen, distractedly. 'A stain! I
shall be branded like Cain. No, I will never enter Damascus again, or
any of the cities of the coast. I will give up all my castles to my
cousin Francis El Kazin, on condition that he does not pay my creditors.
I will retire to Mar Hanna. I will look upon man no more.'

'Be calm, my Fakredeen; there is yet hope; my responsibility at this
moment is surely not lighter than yours.'

'Ah! you did not know him, Eva!' exclaimed Fakredeen, passionately; 'you
never listened to him! He cannot be to you what he is to me. I loved
him!'

She pressed her finger to her lips, for they had arrived at the tent of
Tancred. The young Emir, drying his streaming eyes, entered first, and