"Why are you so terrified? I have in my harem many women who are as beautiful and young as you are, and of much nobler birth, and they esteem themselves happy in belonging to me. But I tell you, Masa, I will hold you higher than them all. You shall rule over them all, and they shall all bow down before you, for Cousrouf Pacha will set them the example. By Allah! I swear it to you with the triple oath: not my slave, but my favorite, shall you be. Cousrouf Pacha will honor you as the first, as the queen of his harem." "It is impossible, sir," she cried, in terror. "My father's daughter cannot sell herself. She is a free woman, and must remain so." "Then remain so, and your father dies," said he, composedly. "Plume yourself with your freedom, but say, too, in your proud arrogance, that you are the murderess of your father. For, I say to you, Mohammed swore the oath, and he will keep it. Your father will die, and you will be his murderess." "Allah be merciful! I cannot allow my father to die. No!" she groaned aloud. "He dies if you do not accept what I offer. I repeat it, wealth and honors shall be yours. The daughter of the poor sheik of the wretched village shall become the favorite of the pacha. I shall not remain here long. The message will soon come that calls me to Stamboul; and you, Masa, shall go with me. At the court of the grand-vizier you shall be the first; I will honor you above all the rest, and lay at your feet all that I possess, for you are beautiful, and my heart is filled with love for you. I will make you happy at my side. And now decide. Without in the iron cage stands your father awaiting his deliverance, and here stands his daughter, and beside her Cousrouf Pacha, who offers her money, all she may desire, and lays every thing that he possesses at her feet. If you accept this offer, Masa, your father walks out of his prison a free man in spite of the blood-thirsty youth. Take the money and do not think I am purchasing you; it shall only be an earnest of your future. If you suppose you are to be, as you say, a slave, you are mistaken. You will only become the slave of your love for me." "No, sir! never can I love you," she cried, vehemently. "You cannot? It is thus the heart of the wild-dove speaks! Masa, you will, because you will be touched by my love. When you see me doing every thing to make you happy it will touch your heart, and you will love me." At this moment loud cries and lamentations were heard from without. "Those are the men of Praousta, who have come up and are lamenting. Do you not hear the call from the mosque? The second hour of prayer is at hand, the time has came. Decide, Masa!" She sank down on her knees, groaning; and prayed to Allah for mercy. "O Mass," said the pacha, raising her from her knees, "Cousrouf prays to you, be merciful to your father; yield, be mine and save him."