Something rustles in the garden. The pacha steps hastily to the window, throws it open, and looks out eagerly into the darkness. It is well that the moon is at this moment concealed by clouds; he might otherwise now see her coming up the walk from the end of the avenue. No, nothing approaches. It is not the beautiful virgin, with the eyes of the gazelle, with the light, airy step. How beautiful she is, how fair, how lovely! Is she not yet coming? Does he not hear approaching footsteps? No, neither of the eunuchs is stealthily approaching to announce to his mighty master that the virgin has entered the harem. He stands and waits, his face quivering with anger and impatience. He is angry with the girl for daring to come so late. But come she will, and come she must; for whoever breaks the treble oath is lost before Allah and the prophet. He remains at the window, looking out into the quiet garden and dark night for a long time. The wind extinguishes the lamp that stands on the table. Now all is profound darkness. It is dark in the garden, and in the room. It is dark, too, in Cousrouf Pacha's breast. "Woe to her, if she dares to break her oath! In that case, I will go, with my servants, in the broad light of day, to-morrow, to the sheik's house, and demand my property--my slave. Mine is she, for I purchased her with money which she accepted. Then, however, she shall not be my queen, but my slave--my servant. Come she shall, by Allah! I must possess her, for I love her with all the passion of my heart." He bends forward, and listens attentively again. He hardly dares to breathe, and his heart throbs loudly as he anxiously gazes out into the garden. He does not notice that the hours are rapidly passing; to him it seems an eternity of waiting. Without, at the garden-gate, the two watchful eunuchs are still standing. They, like their master, have been looking out into the darkness, and listening throughout the entire night. "No sign of her yet," said one of the eunuchs to the other. "Woe to the girl if she dares to deceive our mighty master! She thinks, perhaps, he will abandon his claim. There will be a nice piece of work to be done tomorrow. Cousrouf Pacha, our mighty master, is not in the habit of being trifled with. He will send us down after his property, and there will be no lack of bloody heads in Praousta, tomorrow; for we shall certainly have to regain possession of this slave. He says she accepted the purchase-money, and she therefore belongs to the master who bought her. Will she come, or shall we have to get possession of her by force tomorrow?" "I hope she will come of her own word," said the other. "These fishermen are so brave, and have such hard fists."