a man.'

‘Yes, I will come,' answered she, ‘but I must first look in the
river. Perhaps some one has thrown her in there.' But the maiden
was not in the river.

For four days the father and mother waited and watched for their
child to come back; then they gave up hope, and said to each
other: ‘What is to be done? What are we to say to the man to whom
Dschemila is betrothed? Let us kill a goat, and bury its head in
the grave, and when the man returns we must tell him Dschemila is
dead.'

Very soon the bridegroom came back, bringing with him carpets and
soft cushions for the house of his bride. And as he entered the
town Dschemila's father met him, saying, ‘Greeting to you. She is
dead.'

At these words the young man broke into loud cries, and it was
some time before he could speak. Then he turned to one of the
crowd who had gathered round him, and asked: ‘Where have they
buried her?'

‘Come to the churchyard with me,' answered he; and the young man
went with him, carrying with him some of the beautiful things he
had brought. These he laid on the grass and then began to weep
afresh. All day he stayed, and at nightfall he gathered up his
stuffs and carried them to his own house. But when the day dawned
he took them in his arms and returned to the grave, where he
remained as long as it was light, playing softly on his flute.