“I am mistaken in you, Christian!” said an unknown voice, “or you mistake me for another: doubtless there are many in the court of Persia who forget your religion and your country in your accomplishments; but learn that I am not one of those.” Sebastian drew respectfully back: reassured by this submission, the lady sat down on one of the divans, and still concealing herself in her veil, addressed him again. “I come not here, Sir Knight! with either the hope or the wish of charming you; my errand is of another kind. I come to ask a boon.--Attracted by your seeming nobleness and gentleness, (for I have seen you at the court festivities) convinced of your worthiness from your friendship with Prince Abbas,” (here the lady faltered and sighed, then added faintly,) “I venture to believe you will not deny me what I would solicit.” “Say not solicit, Madam!” replied Sebastian courteously, “a virtuous woman commands everywhere. Speak your will and see me eager to obey it.” The Persian lady moved her veil a little that she might read his looks; in doing so she discovered a milk-white forehead, finely pencilled with jet-black eyebrows; the eyes beneath them were brilliant, noble, and pleasing, but they wanted the melting softness of Kara Aziek’s: she fixed them an instant on Sebastian with a complacent smile, tears gathered in them, and then she closed her veil abruptly. “I must first inform you,” she said in a low trembling voice, “that in me you see Maimuna, the daughter of one of the Sophi’s bravest generals: six moons since my father fell on the field of battle. I alone remain to keep his name in remembrance,--what do I say? his renown is his monument.--Amongst my household there is an orphan youth, (the child of a favorite relation) whose heart is smit with a passion for arms; he wishes to serve against the Turks:--his years are so tender, my regard for him is so great,--yet his desire is so ardent, that,”----again Maimuna faltered, hesitated, and stopped.-- Sebastian eyed her doubtfully: it was evident that some strong emotion agitated her; yet even now nothing that she had said appeared to justify it. He approached respectfully, and regarding her with one of those kindly smiles, which ever opened to him the hearts of others, he said. “Dismiss apprehension, fair lady! behold in me one whose breast Love has already sanctified and set apart: I am therefore incapable of yielding to any impulse which might alarm your delicacy, or teach you to conclude yourself vainly interpreted.--My faith is another’s, but my friendship and my services are at the command of every virtuous or suffering woman. This youth you speak of, is it to my care you would entrust him? or would you that I try to obtain for him some honorable station near the person of Prince Abbas?”