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judged herself severely. She condemned herself for her imprudent reveries. It was cruel to sport with the love of the Kurd, and with the affection of her Cousin. The romance of nomadic life, which for a moment had seduced her, appeared odious and absurd. Who knew where she might have been led if there had been a little more opium in the narghile, if the cool breeze had not dissipated her intoxication? She only thought now of getting away from the Kurdish village as one would withdraw from the edge of a precipice.

Frandjic was in a calm sleep, but a tear still hung at the extremity of the closed eye-lash. Lucy dried that tear with a kiss, then kneeling down before the bed she commenced her evening prayer. In that she asked of God for a blessing upon the little friend whom she was about to leave, and who would be hereafter alone, delivered to the caprices of that destiny which sports with the life of man as the wind with the falling leaves. The prayer finished, she couched herself near Frandjic. Their blonde tresses mingled upon the pillow, and then was heard in the chamber only the chirp of a cricket beneath the cinders of the hearth.


WHEN the following morning Miss Blandemere met Stewart she held out her hand to him. "Pardon me," said she, "I was unjust to you yesterday, and I regret it. I have a very bad character. I will try to control it better in future. We need not speak any more of that, I suppose? And to give you satisfaction, we will depart to-morrow."

Erzeroom is two days journey of a caravan from Abdurrahmanli, but the horses chosen expressly for the journey were now rested and could without difficulty make it in a single day. It was agreed that they should start with the rising sun. Lucy charged herself with making known the determination to the Agha. "My cousin," said she, "is compelled to hasten his return to Europe. I think it would do me harm to remain in so cold a country as Armenia. You have seen that I was suffering. I fear the consequences of a nervous fever such as that of yesterday."

The Kurd, who did not expect such a speedy departure, perceived that his heart was broken; but he manifested no emotion.

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"It will be done as you desire," said he, "I will give orders to have all ready to-morrow morning."

The day passed sadly. Frandjic never quitted Miss Blandemere, and could hardly restrain her tears. The Lieutenent wished to leave with the tribe a souvenir of his journey. He paid magnificently for the least services. He took apart the old blind bard and filled his hand with gold pieces. He, fierce and proud as a poet, accepted that liberality in the same way as Demodocus the presents of kings. "I will compose a poem in your honor," said he, "and your name will live long among the girls of Abdurrahmanli."

Miss Blandemere slept none the whole night. About four in the morning she and Mrs. Morton rose and prepared to depart. They found neither the horses nor the mules which they expected to find there. To make amends, all the village was on foot and in the greatest confusion. "What has happened?" demanded they of Stewart, whom they perceived through the dim twilight. "The Kurds are in a great commotion," said he. "The Agha has disappeared, and they have been searching for him in vain this half-hour."

The strangers soon learned that the servants of Selim, when they came to their master's house to tell him that the hour of the departure of his guests had come, had found the chamber empty. His favourite horse was not in the stable, and his arms were not in their usual place. He had often previously departed unexpectedly on an expedition or a journey, but always accompanied by some of the men, and after having apprised his sister of his resolution. Such a quick departure seemed inexplicable. If it did not alarm the tribe, it astonished it wonderfully.

When the day came, traces of his horse's feet were found in the snow. He had gone south-east-that is, towards Persia. Many men got on horseback to follow the Agha. The English party did not wish to depart till re-assured regarding their host, and remained at the village awaiting the news. Miss Blandemere had re-entered her chamber, and by the partly open window heard the conversation of the people passing. She did not comprehend their language well, yet enough to know that they imputed to the strangers the event which troubled them all. The witcheries of Europeans are a simple explanation of the most extraordinary incidents. A presentiment told Lucy that the Kurds were only

half-deceived in their conjectures. She feared that the Chief of the Abdurrahmanli remained under the fatal charm which had subdued him, and that he had taken some desperate resolution. She knew the East too well to suppose that he would deliver himself from an existence which had become intolerable, but who could tell what other follies a man might commit under the influence of passion?

Meantime, the evening came on without bringing any news. Lucy passed part of the night consoling little Frandjic, who was alike inconsolable for the departure of Lucy, and the disappearance of the Agha. At break of day the horsemen had not returned. The caravan could not suspend its progress indefinitely. They took the road, charging Selim's sister to send word of the Agha to them at Erzeroom, where they had to remain some days. Lucy bade adieu to the inconsolable Frandjic, to whom she left, as a souvenir of her journey, a turquoise bracelet, a present of the wife of the Viceroy of Tauris; and one part of the tribe accompanied the strangers an hour on the way -all sorcerors as they were supposed to be by the wisest people of the village.

The journey was made, without difficulty, in beautiful weather. On the morning of the third day the caravan departed from a narrow gorge and saw before it a vast plain, like a basin of the sea from which the waves have withdrawn. Mountains in amphitheatre, disposed as steps of an immense circus, shut in all parts. Elevated peaks shot up here and there indented lines above inferior summits. The plain was white with snow. Brown spots, above which floated the smoke, marked the place of numerous villages. In the distance, in the midst of the furthest heights, one might distinguish a sombre spot larger than the others. That was Erzeroom. Environed by immense fields of snow, which the sun covered with blue and rose tints, half veiled by a light fog, pierced by the points of the minarets, she appeared like those fantastic cities, suspended between heaven and earth, which serve for the abode of the Genii.

Erzeroom is near to Europe; but happy as Miss Blandemere was to find herself at the entrance of a civilized country, she did not wish to continue her journey till she had heard what had become of her host of the mountain. The days passed, and the promised message did not come. It was necessary to depart for

Trebizonde, and for Constantinople. In this last city the English voyagers took leave of Tikraine-Effendi. Five days after, they arrived in London.

A year passed away. Lucy, who had married Stewart, was seated at the window of her chamber in the great house of Westmoreland. The winter had returned. The turf of the park, the plains and the lake had disappeared under the snow. The tableau recalled to her the solitudes of Armenia. A letter was brought to her, covered with many coloured stamps. She broke the seal, which bore in Arabic letters the monogram of Tikraine-Effendi, and read as follows:

CONSTANTINOPLE, 26th Oct., 1861.

"Madam,-You have charged me to give you news of our friends of the Kurd Mountains. If the news comes to you late, excuse me, I pray you, in thinking that it is difficult to know at Constantinople what is passing at Abdurrahmanli. Here is what I have heard from a traveller who lately arrived from Kurdistan. "Selim-Agha has never appeared to his people. The horsemen sent in pursuit lost all trace of him on the frontier of Persia, and during some months nothing was heard of him. At the commencement of this year it was reported that he had joined the Kurdish tribes, established on the frontier of Khorassan. Some time after a Dervish traveller, come from Meched, reported that the unfortunate Selim-Agha was killed in an encounter with the Uzbecks of the Red Sand Desert. No one knows the motive of the strange resolution which he took. His own people say that magic was at the bottom of it. As to myself, I am lost in conjectures.

"You left at Abdurrahmanli one who constantly talked of you -the little Frandjic. Unfortunately, the poor child fell sick at the beginning of winter. She had always been of feeble health. The chagrin caused by the departure of her uncle, was not less fatal than the rigours of the climate, and she died before the spring. She asked her mother to be interred with the bracelet you gave her."

Poor Frandjic! Poor Selim! said Lucy, letting fall the letter. She remained a long time before the window without detaching her thought from the subject of her silent meditation, and without turning her eyes from the winter landscape, so like the Kurdish country. The only verdure in the middle of the snow was that of a little isolated cemetery, at the bottom of the plain. The cypresses

recalled to her once more the melancholy stanzas of the Persian Poet. They were chaunted in her ear as an adieu, full of resigned sadness. Since then, Lucy often thinks of the two tombs, where sleep in the bosom of the East those who loved her.


Freely translated from the French of Andrieux.

MAN'S a strange problem, starting still aside,
The individual, as the race, swerves wide;
What we the common character may call,
Is just to have no character at all;
Sceptic at morn, and dogmatist at night,
Oft in the wrong, yet sometimes in the right;
With every wind and cloud we rise and fall,
As fluid silver in the crystal ball;

E'en kings, the much-abused, of whom there go
Such ill reports-some fairer features show;
I well believe it—yea, a proof will bring,
Of right prevailing with a mighty king.
The Second Frederick on the Oder's side,
Of a new kingdom long the strength and pride,
By Austria feared, by France with envy viewed,
Whose restless mind some problem still pursued,
Wooing the muses 'mid the din of war-
Great king, bad Christian, deep philosopher,-
This Royal Medley sighed for some retreat,
Where, loosed from galling chains of etiquette,
He might not vegetate, not hunt and drink,
But-pipe and sing, philosophize and think;
Sigh over human inconsistency,

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Then, mingling wisdom still with mirth and glee,
Sup with D'Argens, Voltaire and Lametrie.

Now, so it chanced, that on the green hill's side,
Whose easy slope the chosen site supplied,

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