raid," cried Philip, hastily.

"I am not afraid," replied Amine, pressing her hand to her heart. "It
is over now. Spirit of my dear husband--for such I think thou art--I
thank thee! Welcome, even in death, Philip--welcome!" and Amine waved
her hand mournfully, inviting Philip to enter as she retired from the
window.

"My God! she thinks me dead," thought Philip, and, hardly knowing how to
act, he entered in at the window, and found her sitting on the sofa.
Philip would have spoken; but Amine, whose eyes were fixed upon him as
he entered, and who was fully convinced that he was but a supernatural
appearance, exclaimed--

"So soon--so soon! O God! thy will be done: but it is hard to bear.
Philip, beloved Philip, I feel that I soon shall follow you."

Philip was now more alarmed: he was fearful of any sudden reaction when
Amine should discover that he was still alive.

"Amine, dear, hear me. I have appeared unexpectedly and at an unusual
hour; but throw yourself into my arms, and you will find that your
Philip is not dead."

"Not dead!" cried Amine, starting up.

"No, no, still warm in flesh and blood, Amine--still your fond and
doting husband," replied Philip, catching her in his arms, and pressing
her to his heart.

Amine sank from his embrace down upon the sofa, and fortunately was
relieved by a burst of tears, while Philip, kneeling by her, supported
her.

"O God! O God! I thank thee," relied Amine, at last. "I thought it
was your spirit, Philip. O! I was glad to see even that," continued
she, weeping on his shoulder.

"Can you listen to me, dearest?" said Philip, after a silence of a few
moments.

"O speak--speak, love; I can listen for ever."

In a few words Philip then recounted what had taken place, and the
occasion of his unexpected return, and felt himself more than repaid for
all that he had suffered, by the fond endearments of his still agitated
Amine.

"And your father, Amine?"

"He is well; we will talk of him to-morrow."

"Yes," thought Philip, as he awoke next morning, and dwelt upon the
lovely features of his still slumbering wife; "yes, God is merciful. I
feel that there is still happiness in store for me; nay, more, that that
happiness also depends upon my due performance of my task, and that I
should be punished if I were to forget my solemn vow. Be it so,--
through danger and to death will I perform my duty, trusting to His
mercy for a reward both here below and in heav