Ivan slept soundly for some hours, fatigued as he was with the exertions of the last few days and the anxiety of his escape. As he was first returning to consciousness, the curtains of his small tent being closed, and a gentle light streaming through them, he fancied, or it might have been a waking dream, that a strain of music fell on his ear. As he listened, he was lulled into that half-dreaming, half-waking state, so delightful after the heavy slumber induced by fatigue; yet the syllables sounded distinctly, and he feared to stir, lest the sweet tones should prove but a dreamy illusion of the ear. The words were to the following effect, sung in a clear rich voice, which Ivan fancied that he could recognise as that of young Conrin. Far as the waves can bear O'er the deep sea; Far as the breezes blow O'er vale and lea; In whate'er lands you roam, Leaving my father's home, I'll follow thee. O'er the blue mountain's brow, Joyous and free; E'en where the desert plain Bears not a tree, And the dark simoon's breath, Comes bearing sudden death, I'll follow thee. Where, in the forest, waves Many a tree, To those cold regions which Day cannot see; Over the arid sand Of Afric's scorching land, I'll follow thee. To the proud battle-field Bounding with glee, Bearing thy banner high, As the foes flee; Or mid the raging strife, Where fierce men seek thy life, I'll follow thee. In the dark prison hold Near thee I'll be; For thy lov'd service gives Freedom to me: Should grief or sickness come, And when death is thy doom, I'll follow thee. [See Note] No sooner had the strain ceased, than Ivan awoke to perfect consciousness, and springing from his couch, went forth from the tent, where he found Javis and Conrin waiting his presence, and a blush stole on the boy's cheeks at having been detected in his musical performance. "Ah, my young page!" said Ivan, "were you the good spirit which first aroused me from slumber with your sweet strains? I knew not of your vocal skill; but now that I have discovered it, I may often call upon you to soothe my spirit when oppressed." "Ah! gladly would I sing to you the live long day, if I thought it would please you, Sir," answered the boy. "Indeed, it does please me; but how came you possessed of this art, the most prized in the sendee of a page?" asked Ivan. "I lived with those who gained their livelihood by it; but I could never sing for pay; my voice is dumb if my words flow not from the heart." "Well, boy, I hope often to hear you; and now you see that I am not the decrepit old man I first seemed, still do you wish to follow my fortunes, knowing that they may be perilous ones? But I would not command you to leave me." "Say you so, Sir? and I would not quit you for worlds," answered Conrin.