"No one knows, excellency, though her people generally come most
cheerfully to our harems."

"There is no means of understanding her save by signs?" asked the
Sultan.

"None, excellency."

"Take her to the harem, Mustapha," said his master, after a few
moments of thoughtful silence, "take her to the harem, and give
strict charge that she be well cared for."

"Excellency, yes," said the old Turk, with a profound reverence
after the manner of the East, "your wish is your slave's law," he
continued, as he turned away.

"And look you, good Mustapha," said the Sultan, recalling him once
more, "say it is our will that she be made as happy as may be."

"Excellency, yes," again repeated the old man with a salaam, and
then turning to the Circassian, he signed to her to follow him.

As the slave retired she could not but look back at the Sultan, who
had greeted her with such kind consideration, and as she did so she
met his dark, piercing eye bent upon her in gentle pity. She almost
sighed to leave the presence of one who had showed her the first
kindness, the first token of thoughtful consideration for her
situation since she left her own home, far away beyond the sea. But
Mustapha beckoned her forward, and she hastened to obey his summons,
wondering as she went what was to be her fate; whether that was to