He walked into the
inner apartment, and so noiselessly that his step was not heard by
her who stood behind the partition, by Butheita. She stood there,
her head bowed down, and her gaze fixed on the spot where she had
broken bread with Mohammed. Now, hearing her name murmured behind
her, she started and turned around. He observed that her manner was
sad, and that the smile had departed from her lips.
"You are sad, Butheita," whispered he, approaching her.
She cast down her eyes before his glance. "You are going away," said
she. "Father is already saddling the dromedary, and you are about to
leave us."
"I must go," said be, gently. "Duty calls me away, while love would
gladly hold me back. But I am a man, and must listen to the voice of
duty only. They say you are to accompany, and show me the way?"
She shook her head resolutely. "I beg you, say that you do not wish
it, that you desire my father to accompany you."
"And why should I do so?" asked he, gazing searchingly into her
countenance. "Do you hate me so that you are unwilling to pass an
hour in my company? Did I conduct myself unbecomingly while we were
together in the palanquin this morning? Why will you not accord me
the happiness of riding across the desert with you again? Why do you
hate me?"
She remained silent for a while, and then slowly shook her head.
"No, it is not that; it is something quite different.
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