My longing heart is drawn to
thee. And, though this earth were heaven, and it contained my Lubna
not, I'd wander rather through the gates of hell if I but knew my
Lubna there!"
"If I but knew my Lubna there!" repeated Osman Bey, in low,
tremulous tones.--"You wish to know when I first heard this song? I
will tell you. It was on the evening of a bloody day of battle; I
had ridden at the side of our great chieftain, Mourad Bey. He called
me his friend, his--"
"His favorite," said Sitta Nefysseh, interrupting him. "He said he
loved you like a brother, and would confide to you without fear or
hesitation all he loved best--his wife, his child--knowing that they
would be guarded and held sacred as though they were in the holiest
niche of the mosque. Yes, my noble husband loved you. And now, speak
on. You had gone out to battle."
"Yes, it was a bloody day. The angel of death hovered over us, and
the swords of the enemy swept heavily upon our ranks. A sabre-stroke
dealt by Bashi Seref fell upon the sword-arm of my noble friend,
striking him down and disabling him. The Turk was preparing to deal
a second blow, when I struck him to the earth with my ataghan. I
then bore my friend from the conflict to his tent, and there you
were, Sitta Nefysseh. You received the hero from my arms, and for
the first time I saw your unveiled countenance. I then returned to
the battle, and took Mourad's place at the head of his Mamelukes.
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