er."

When Khaled had heard these words, he cast his eyes to the ground, and
remained for some time thoughtful and gloomy. Then he replied: "My
mother, I cannot remain here any longer. I must return home amid my
horsemen and troops. I have no intention of saying anything more to my
cousin; I am convinced that she is a person whose temper and ideas of
life are uncertain; her character and manner of speech are utterly
destitute of stability and propriety. I have always been accustomed to
live amid warriors, on whom I spend my wealth, and with whom I win a
soldier's renown. As for my cousin's love for me, it is the weakness of
a woman, of a young girl." He then donned his armor, mounted his horse,
bade his uncle farewell, and announced his intention of leaving at once.
"What means this haste?" cried Zahir. "I can remain here no longer,"
answered Khaled, and, putting his horse to a gallop, he flung himself
into the depths of the wilderness. His mother, after relating to Djaida
the conversation she held with her son, mounted a camel and made her way
towards her own country.

The soul of Djaida felt keenly this indignity. She brooded over
it--sleepless and without appetite. Some days afterwards, as her father
was preparing with his horsemen to make a foray against his foes, his
glance fell on Djaida, and seeing how altered she was in face, and
dejected in spirit, he refrained from saying anything, thinking and
hoping that she would surely become herself again after a short time.

Scarcely was Zahir out of sight of his tents, when Djaida, who felt
herself like to die, and whose frame of mind was quite unsupportable,
said to her mother: "Mother, I feel that I am dying, and that this
miserable Khaled is still in the vigor of life. I should like, if God
gives me the power, to make him taste the fury of death, the bitterness
of its pang and torture." So saying, she rose like a lioness, put on her
armor, and mounted her horse, telling her mother she was going on a
hunting expedition. Swiftly, and without stopping, she traversed rocks
and mountains, her excitement increasing as she approached the
dwelling-place of her cousin. As she was disguised, she entered,
unrecognized, into the tent where strangers were received. Her visor
was, however, lowered, like that of a horseman of Hijaz. Slaves and
servants received her, offered her hospitality, comporting themselves
towards her as to one of the guests, and the most noble personages o