"Oh, my God!" cried she, "the only father to whom I can now appeal for either succour or advice, what must I then do? Must I suffer Ishmael to perish? Were my dear father but alive, a sacred duty would detain me here; but an orphan in this thorny world, isolated, and without one friend to protect me from insult and degradation worse even than death, what course am I to follow? I belong to no one, have no one either to love or to regret me. A numerous family would mourn for Ishmael, and can I then consent to his death? Of what importance is the fate of Miriam? He shall live, he may even yet be happy. Ishmael, save thy life and mine: we will abandon these awful scenes together. It shall be even as thou wilt. Pardon us, Holy Virgin, if we have erred: or, at least, if we are guilty, let thy vengeance descend upon my head alone." Not an instant was to be lost. Guided by the flames that were consuming the hospital of the Armenians, Miriam and Ishmael threaded with considerable difficulty the aloe hedges that divide the gardens of the suburbs. With the opportune aid of some fugitive Christians, whom they casually encountered in their flight, they passed the outer walls of the city. Their situation became every moment more and more critical. They could be both seen and heard, and the slightest noise might have betrayed them into the hands of their enemies. For the first time in his life, Ishmael experienced a sensation of fear. They hurried on in silence: but Miriam, accustomed to the sedentary life of eastern women, found her strength beginning to fail her, and her companion was obliged to bear her onward in his arms. The minarets of Bethany now burst upon their sight, and Ishmael, gaining resolution from the reflection that he was at length master of the fate of his beloved, hastened on to the ruins. Having reached them, he proceeded to give the appointed signal, and profound was their consternation at receiving no answer in return. The night, one of unusual darkness, had now closed in upon them, and neither guide nor camel was in attendance. In vain they repeated the signal, and listened with beating hearts for the reply. All was silent as the grave. They had greatly exceeded the ninth hour, and the janissary had, in all probability, given up the hope of seeing them, and returned to the city; or it might be for the purpose of betraying them into the hands of the revengeful Molsallam. Various and painful were the conjectures in which they successively indulged. What was to be done? How were they to traverse sixty miles of a rough mountainous and desert track, without assistance, and without provision, to find at the end of their journey a wide expanse of moving sands, burning beneath the scorching rays of a tropic sun, and treacherous and uncertain to the tread. Everything, however, appears possible to love: Ishmael easily convinced Miriam of the necessity of continuing their course: "I know," said he, "of a spring half way between this and the part of the Desert inhabited by the tribe of Wahydyah; we shall find date trees near the fountain, whose fruits will yield us nourishment. I will sustain you in my arms; two days will suffice for the journey: if your strength fails you we will rest, and you shall regain it on my bosom." Pure and unsophisticated innocence invested them with their panoply and tempered the warmth of their emotions, awakening between them a full and perfect confidence in each other, the tender and holy charm of earliest love. Miriam willingly believed the asseverations of Ishmael. Anxious to take advantage of the freshness of the night, that they might prosecute their arduous journey with as little fatigue as possible, they hastened to quit the ruins of Bethany-vain hope! the strength of the fair Christian was already exhausted, and her tender feet were lacerated by the sharp stones that lay imbedded amidst the sands over which she had passed. Ishmael witnessed her forced exertions and her sufferings, and his heart bled within him at the sight. He guided her steps, and supported her in his arms, but still their progress was comparatively slow. The rising sun now displayed to their view the Desert over which they had to pass, an immense plain of sand already red by the sun's earliest beams, and unshaded by a single tree. But this prospect, so far from discouraging Ishmael, seemed only to animate him to fresh exertions. The Desert was to him a home and an emblem of independence; "O Miriam!" said he, "take courage; before sunset we shall reach the fountain of Engaddi, and tomorrow we shall approach my father's tents." Miriam, inspirated by these soothing words, endeavoured to conceal her weariness, and continued to press forward leaning on the arm of Ishmael. But the paleness of her countenance betrayed that she was in the last stage of exhaustion. Ishmael again took her in his arms. Towards the close of this fatiguing day the newly recovered invalid himself began to droop; his eyes grew dim, and he could scarcely discern in the horizon the top of the palm trees of Engaddi. It seemed impossible that they should reach this resting place before dark, and Miriam, who laid already a fainting burthen in his arms, and parched with thirst, was scarcely able to articulate a word. The thought that it was for his sake she had exposed herself to this intensity of suffering, invigorated the sinking Arab: he pressed on, rested, and again pursued his way. The fear of losing the object of his idolatry stimulated him almost beyond his strength, and still he struggled onward, pressing ever and anon his precious burthen to his panting and agitated bosom. A few steps more H and they were by the side of the long-desired spring, at which they had no sooner arrived than, utterly powerless and exhausted, they both fell prostrate on the sands. Ishmael dragged himself with some difficulty to the edge of the fountain, and filling the palms of his hands with the precious liquid, moistened the parched and bleeding lips of Miriam. She opened her languid eyes, and smiled her grateful thanks through the tears with which they were filled. Anxious only for Ishmael, she appeared indifferent to her own sufferings. "Alas!" said she, faintly, "had it not been for me, thou wouldst not have been reduced to this strengthless and debilitated condition;" thus making even her own sacrifice a subject of self-accusation. They rested one entire night and day beneath the datetrees at the fountain of Engaddi. As the evening advanced, Ishmael stationed himself at the feet of Miriam, and watched over her with intense and breathless anxiety-a solicitude as deep and pure as that with which the young mother hangs over the waning beauty of her first-born child. Ishmael's energies were in a great measure renewed, whilst the daughter of Ebn Temym awoke feverish and unrested; but still anxious for the safety of her lover, she expressed the utmost eagerness to depart, and they once more set out on their journey, bearing with them dates and water for their future refreshment. They had not proceeded far when they met some Arab shepherds, who, sympathising with them in their distress, provided them with more solid nourishment than they had hitherto been able to obtain. It happened fortunately for the wearied fugitives, that an old man of the party was on terms of friendship with several of the tribe of Wahydyah, and he, therefore, tendered Ishmael and Miriam his services as a guide. They directed their course towards the |