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The Circassian Slave, or, the Sultan's favorite : a story of Constantinople and the Caucasus by Maturin Murray Ballou
page 56 of 157 (35%)

An observant person could have noticed also a third party in that
presence, though he was some distance from Lalla's side, lying upon
the ground, so near the jet of a fountain, that the spray dampened
his face. It was the idiot. To the monarch, or his slave, he
appeared unconscious of aught save the play of water; but one nearer
to him would have seen that no movement of either escaped the now
watchful eye of the boy. Was it possible that he possessed a degree
of reason, after all, and more than half assumed the strange guise
that seemed to enshroud his wits.

Now he tossed the pure white pebble stones into the playing waters,
and saw them carried up by the force of the jets, and now half
rising to his elbow, startled the gold and silver fish in the basin
by a tiny shower of gravel, but still with a strange tenacity, ever
watching both the Sultan and his slave, though not appearing to do
so.

A change had come over that proud, eastern prince. He had been
awakened to fresh impulses, and a new and joyful sense of
realization; the sentiments that actuated him were novel, indeed, to
his breast. From childhood he had been taught by every association
to look upon the gentler sex as toys, merely, of his own; but here
was one, yes, and the first one, too, who had caused him to realize
that she had a soul, a heart, a brilliant, natural intelligence of
mind, that surprised and delighted him. Besides this, the fact of
her sad physical misfortune had, no doubt, increased his tender and
respectful solicitude, and thus altogether he was most peculiarly
situated, as it regarded his dumb slave.

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