"One day Kariades said to her, 'My child, I must seek a husband for thee among the merchants of my people.' But she firmly refused, declaring that there could be no joy for her unless she knew that her sister was not living in wretched thralldom in the house of some cruel Turk. "'But,' said he, 'what if death have overtaken her?' "'We promised, as we lay folded in each other's arms the night before we were parted, to be happy or sorrowful together--to laugh at the same time, to weep at the same time--and if one died, the other was never to cease grieving. I remember that, as they were dragging Zoë away, she turned her pale face, all sparkling with tears, toward me, and cried, _forever_!' "'Meaning that you were parted forever?' "'No; but that we were to be faithful to our vow forever. I never shall forget the agonizing expression of that face. How can I? I see it every night in my dreams; and painful though it be, I rush into sleep as eagerly to behold it as if I were going into Paradise. No: I will never marry while that face threatens to interpose between my husband and me.' "'Then this vision torments thee?' "'Ah, father!' and she shuddered, and bent her head. "It was evident that her mind was weakened by too much contemplation of one idea. "Kariades yielded before a will stronger than his own, and nothing more was said either about marriage or the lost Zoë for nearly a year. At the end of this time, Silver-Voice appeared before the good old man, and said, 'Father, give me money; I have thought of a means by which I may find my sister Zoë.' He looked sadly at her, but gave her what she required. Next day she disappeared, and was not heard of for several weeks. Then she returned, consoled her adopted parents by her presence for a while, and again departed without giving the least indication of how she employed her time. Nor did they ask her, confident that all she did was prompted by that most powerful of all loves--the love of a sister supplying a mother's place. "The truth was, that she had hired a number of houses in various parts of Cairo, and visited them alternately, in order to pass the evenings singing on the terrace. Despite the failure of the researches made by Kariades, she remained persuaded that Zoë was in Cairo, and hoped that the echoes of her magnificent voice might at length go as messengers into the depths of every harem, and make known her presence. The whole city was by turns rendered happy by the Silver-Voice; but as it was heard now in the Citadel, now near the Bisket-el-Fil, anon at the Bab Zuweileh, men began to think strange things. It was curious, indeed, to hear the speculations of the gossiping Turks about this ubiquitous voice. I remember laughing much at the wise arguments by which one of them, who had heard the fable of Memnon's statue, demonstrated to me that the sound came from no human organ at all, but was produced by the rays of the setting sun striking in some peculiar way upon the minarets.