You, however,
Youssouf, I make the executor of my last will; you are to distribute
the souvenirs according to a list that I will give you."
She arose and took from a little closet in the wall a small book,
bound with gold and richly studded with diamonds.
"This book contains the names of those to whom I wish to leave a
present at my death; you will act according to the instructions
contained in it, but the book itself you will keep. My initials are
on it, set in splendid diamonds. It was given me by Bonaparte, the
general of the Franks. Keep it, and, when you read my name, think of
me!"
"Mistress, I can bear it no longer!" cried he, bursting into tears
and falling on his knees. "No, I can bear it no longer! The thought
of your dying robs me of all self-control. O mistress, be merciful,
and do not speak of your death!"
"We have already dismissed that subject," said she, smiling. "We
must be firm and brave. Youssouf must not weep like a young girl!
Dry your tears, I will not see them!"
Obedient to her command, he arose and brushed the tears from his
eyes. "Mistress, at your bidding my heart is strong again, and your
slave awaits your commands," said he, in a firm voice.
She seemed to be struggling to regain control of herself. Youssouf's
eyes rested on her in a glance of such passionate tenderness that
she felt it without seeing it.
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