_sweet hope_. Take
this small token of my gratitude, and let it be a pledge, that you will
remember the poor Zulima. We shall certainly see each other again, and
then perhaps I shall be much happier."

Henry wept. He was unwilling to take the lute, so indispensable to her
happiness.

"Give me," said he, "the golden hand in your hair ornamented with the
strange characters, unless it be memorial of your parents, sisters, or
brothers, and take in return a veil which my mother will gladly resign
to you."

She finally yielded to his persuasions; and gave him the band, saying;

"It is my name in my mother tongue, which I myself in better times
embroidered on this band. Let it be a pleasure for you to gaze upon it,
and to think that it has bound up my hair during a long and sorrowful
period, and has grown pale with its possessor." Henry's mother loosed
the veil and gave it to her, while she embraced her with tears.

CHAPTER V.

After a few days' journey they arrived at a small village, situated at
the foot of some sharp hill-tops, interspersed with deep defiles. The
country in other respects was fruitful and pleasant, though the hilly
ridge presented a dead, repulsive appearance. The inn was neat, the
people attentive; and a number of men, partly travellers, partly mere
drinking guests, sat in the room entertaining themselves with various
cheer.

Our travellers mingled with them, and joined in their conversation. The
attention of the company was particularly directed to an old man
strangely dressed, who sat by a table and answered pleasantly whatever
questions of curiosity were put to him. He had come from foreign lands,
and early that day had been examining the surrounding country. He was
now explaining his business, and the discoveries he had made during the
day. The people here called him a treasure-digger. But he spoke very
modestly of his power and knowledge; yet what he said bore the impress
of quaintness and novelty. He said that he was born in Bohemia. From
his youth he had been very curious to know what might be hidden in the
mountains, whence water poured its visible springs, and where gold,
silver, and precious stones were found, so irresistibly attractive to
man. He had often in the neighboring cloister-chapel beheld their solid
light appended to the pictures and relics, and only wished that they
would speak to him in explanation of their wonderful origin. He had
indeed