ld have done like me.
I had saved that which was most precious to me in this world.

'When I had worn out my first efforts of strength, and had felt that my
hitherto senseless burden showed some symptoms of life, I stopped,
and placed her quietly on the ground behind some broken walls. She was
terribly bruised, although no bone had been broken. The branches of the
tree, upon which she had alighted, had wounded her deeply in several
places, and the blood had flowed very copiously. But she was alive; she
breathed; she opened her eyes, and at length pronounced my name. I was
almost crazy with joy, and embraced her with a fervour that amounted to
madness. When she had reposed herself a little, I snatched her up
again, and proceeded onwards with all the haste imaginable, in the
determination to strike at once into the mountains; but recollecting
that I had the river of Ashtarek to cross, and that with her in my arms
it would be impossible to do so except by the bridge, I at once directed
my steps thither.

'We were reposing at the foot of the bridge, when I heard the footsteps
of your horses. Although nearly exhausted with my previous exertions, I
still had strength enough left to clamber up the bank, and take refuge
in the ruined church, where you first discovered us; and there I watched
your motions with the greatest anxiety, concluding that you were a party
sent in pursuit of us by the serdar. Need I say after this, that if you
will protect us, and permit us to seek our home, you will receive the
overflowing gratitude of two thankful hearts, and the blessings of many
now wretched people who by our return will be made supremely happy?
Whoever you are, upon whatever errand you may be sent, you cannot have
lost the feelings of a man. God will repay your kindness a thousand
times; and although we are not of your faith and nation, still we have
prayers to put up at the Throne of Grace, which must be received when
they are employed in so good a cause.'

CHAPTER XXXVIII

Sequel of the foregoing history, and of the resolution which Hajji Baba
takes in consequence.

The Armenian youth here finished his narrative, and left me in
astonishment and admiration at all he had related. With my permission
he then quitted me to visit his wife, and promised to return immediately
with the report of her present state, and how she felt after her repose.

'He surely cannot have been inventing lies to my face all this time,'
said I w