One morning her parent was suddenly called from home, and, to her joy, Eiz-ood-Deen appeared in the court. She raised the venetians as he approached the door, and exposing her young glowing countenance, upon which the blush mantled like the opening tint of the vernal rose, told him her father was not within. He stopped a moment to gaze upon her, but overcome with the novelty of the act she had committed, she withdrew her head, and dropped the venetian frame. The Mahomedan was riveted to the spot. He was so overcome by astonishment at the unexpected sight of so much beauty, that he had not the presence of mind to utter a word. At length the sudden impulse of surprise subsided, and he recovered his self-possession. As her apartment faced the court which was seen from the street, he knew it would expose the lovely girl to the worst suspicions if he remained under the window; he therefore entered the house, as if ignorant that the Parsee was from home. He here encountered an old woman who, as he soon ascertained, was an attendant upon the young mistress of the mansion. She was a low-caste Hindoo, and, knowing the sordidness of the class to which she belonged, he had no difficulty in bribing her to bring him into the presence of her young mistress. They met on that very morning. Vows of perpetual love were interchanged, and the beautiful girl agreed to fly with him to his native country, in order to avoid a union against which her heart revolted. Interviews were from this time almost daily contrived between the lovers by the old woman who watched for them, who would have hazarded her soul for gold; it was this only that kept her faithful, but her fidelity was known by those who purchased it to be held by so slippery a tenure that they were both anxious to be beyond the influence of treachery. “My father,” said Eiz-ood-Deen one evening, “when are we to quit this land of the stranger?” “Why, my son, I thought thou didst not seem inclined to quit it; therefore, on thy account, I dismissed it from my thoughts.” “Nay, my sire, a parent’s wish is law to a dutiful son, and I trust you have never found me so wanting in filial obligation as to oppose, even by a thought, the desire of one to whom I owe not only my being, but the blessings of a happy life.” “Well, my son, I have long been prepared to visit the land of my fathers, and, if you concur, we’ll take ship at the full of the present moon, when we shall enjoy the blessing of heaven’s light by night as well as by day.”