"Leila!" said the intruder.

Leila started, and and a deep blush suffused her countenance; she dashed
the tears from her eyes, and came forward with a vain attempt to smile.

"My father, welcome!"

The stranger seated himself on the cushions, and motioned Leila to his
side.

"These tears are fresh upon thy cheek," said he, gravely; "they are the
witness of thy race! our daughters are born to weep, and our sons to
groan! ashes are on the head of the mighty, and the Fountains of the
Beautiful run with gall! Oh that we could but struggle--that we could
but dare--that we could raise up, our heads, and unite against the
bondage of the evil doer! It may not be--but one man shall avenge a
nation!"

The dark face of Leila's father, well fitted to express powerful emotion,
became terrible in its wrath and passion; his brow and lip worked
convulsively; but the paroxsym was brief; and scarce could she shudder
at its intensity ere it had subsided into calm.

"Enough of these thoughts, which thou, a woman and a child, art not
formed to witness. Leila, thou hast been nurtured with tenderness, and
schooled with care. Harsh and unloving may I have seemed to thee, but I
would have shed the best drops of my heart to have saved thy young years
from a single pang. Nay, listen to me silently. That thou mightest one
day be worthy of thy race, and that thine hours might not pass in
indolent and weary lassitude, thou hast been taught lessons of a