Mohammed knows that Masa refuses what the haughty man requires of her. Mohammed knows that Masa prefers death to life at the side of another man, and he feels some consolation in his heart at the thought that she is there, and that her death is but the manifestation of the immortality of her love. He is the witness of her death and of her fidelity, and this soothes his anguish. Ah! it is sweet to die under the glance of love, heavenly and blissful to sink into the grave with gaze fixed on the countenance of the beloved one, heart communing with heart, though lips can find no utterance. It is a grand and elevating sight to him who loves to behold so faithful and heroic a death. After long years have elapsed, Mohammed will still think of this hour when Masa stood firm and immovable in her vows, nobly and disdainfully rejecting life. Blessed be the love that is strong even unto death! Blessed be death when such a spirit hovers over and consecrates it. A long pause. And Cousrouf Pacha speaks again in harder and more imperious tones than before: "Raise your hand, Masa, and give the sign I require." Masa remains motionless. Death awaits her; she knows this, and is glad. Oh, that her face were not veiled! Mohammed might then read her love in her eyes--in these stars fallen from heaven, as he had called them a few short hours before. "Masa, give the sign; this is your last opportunity." She does not move. "Then I curse you, and you die! You have pronounced judgment on yourself!--Here, ye slaves!" They flutter to his side like the ravens of the night, greedily seeking their prey. "Take hold of her and tie her up in the sack." Mohammed's hands and feet are bound, and he cannot rise, but he can lift his head and gaze at the dread deed that is being done, and he does so. Yes, he sees his white dove disappear in the sack in the black grave that is closed over her. "Thus are unfaithful slaves punished; and thus the law allows and commands. Tie the mouth of the sack securely. Is it done? Is the boat ready?" They murmur that all is in readiness. "Good! Row her out on the water. Yet not too far, in order that this boy may see what takes place." He must bear it, and look on while the black ravens drag his white dove down to the shore, and cast the living burden into the boat. They row with rapid strokes from the shore, but not far out, for they know the sea is deep at this place, and that it greedily swallows all that is confided to it. To the rope with which the mouth of the sack is tied up they have secured two heavy iron balls, that it may sink rapidly into the deep. They stop. "Take in the oars! Now lift the sack; cast it into the sea!" The waves receive their prey, and the water foams and eddies for a moment over the place where it went down. All is still again. The boat is turned and rowed back to the shore.