yet her strokes were weak and her face was full of despair.
In an instant I had flung off my coat, rolled up the rifle and pistol
in its folds, and sprung into the water. A few strokes brought me to
Layelah. A moment more and I should have been too late. I held her
head out of water, told her not to struggle, and then struck out to go
back. It would have been impossible for me to do this, encumbered with
such a load, had I not fortunately perceived the floating wing of the
athaleb close beside me. This I seized, and by means of it drew myself
with Layelah alongside; after which I succeeded in putting her on the
back of the animal, and soon followed myself.

The terror of the rifle had overwhelmed her, and the suddenness of the
catastrophe had almost killed her. She had struggled in the water for
a long time, and had called to me in vain. Now she was quite
exhausted, and lay in my arms trembling and sobbing. I spoke to her
encouragingly, and wrapped her in my coat, and rubbed her hands and
feet, until at last she began to recover. Then she wept quietly for a
long time; then the weeping fit passed away. She looked up with a
smile, and in her face there was unutterable gratitude.

"Atam-or," said she, "I never loved death like the rest of the
Kosekin; but now--but now--I feel that death with you would be sweet."

Then tears came to her eyes, and I found tears coming to my own, so
that I had to stoop down and kiss away the tears of Layelah. As I did
so she twined both her arms around my neck, held me close to her, and
sighed.

"Oh, Atam-or, death with you is sweet! And now you cannot reproach
me-- You have done this yourself, with your terrible power; and you
have saved my life to let me die with you. You do not hate me, then,
Atam-or, do you? Just speak once to a poor little girl, and say that
you do not hate her!"

All this was very pitiable. What man that had a heart in his breast
could listen unmoved to words like these, or look without emotion upon
one so beautiful, so gentle, and so tender? It was no longer Layelah
in triumph with whom I had to do, but Layelah in distress: the light
banter, the teasing, mocking smile, the kindling eye, the ready
laugh--all were gone. There was nothing now but mournful
tenderness--the timid appeal of one who dreaded a repulse, the glance
of deep affection, the abandonment of love.

I held Layelah in my arms, and I thought of nothing now but words of
consolation for her. Life se