At length the sound of a distant footstep approaching the dwelling, caught her ear, she started from the reverie. "Run, Buda, run!" she cried, in tones of silvery sweetness, "haste, maiden! and see who approaches; but whoever they may be, stop them from coming here. Say I can see no one to-day; I am ill at ease; I should weep to see strangers. Shew them to the guest room, but not here. Say I would see friends another day, but I cannot now. Go, child." The little girl was flying to obey these mandates, when the young beauty stooped for a moment, in the attitude of listening. "Stay, Buda, stay; it is useless. My fears have made me fanciful. Those are my father's footsteps. Haste, Buda, to usher him to my apartment." While she spoke, the subject of her meditations appeared at the entrance of the apartment, ushered in, according to etiquette, by the youthful slave. As he entered, he bowed low, his lofty plumed helmet touching the door-sill, and as his graceful daughter rose from her silken cushions to receive and welcome him, he folded her in a tender embrace. He was a warrior of commanding and majestic stature, clothed in complete armour. His coat of mail richly inlaid with gold, shone brightly with steel of the highest polish. His curling dark moustache and beard were yet untinged by any of the hues which betoken the approach of age, though his stern and fine features were marked with many furrows, indicating deep thought and numerous cares. He raised from his head his glittering helm, which his daughter respectfully took and placed by her side, as he seated himself on the ottoman and beckoned her to sit near him. "It is long, my father," said the fair girl, "since I have rejoiced in the light of your presence; and oh, what pleasure do you bring to me when you come! I was before sad and thoughtful, and now I feel light and happy. Say, what has kept you so long away?" "My own sweet Ina," answered the chieftain, "in these times of war and of constant peril, I have many things to attend to; and it does not become a warrior to spare many moments from his duties, even though he spend them in soft intercourse with one so loved as you, my child. I have even but now returned from mustering the small remnant of the faithful followers whom his foes have left to Arslan Gherrei; to see that they are well supplied with arms, horses and food, for a campaign. But why, Ina, were you just now, so sad and thoughtful?" "Oh do not ask me, my father! now that I am again happy," replied the daughter. "I did but for a moment feel somewhat ill, and feared that guests were coming whom I did not wish to receive. I am well again, my father, now that you are with me."