"See you any one coming?" he shouted to a page stationed on the summit of the watch-tower. "Why tarries my brother thus? Why sends he not messengers to announce the coming of my bride? Surely he would not fail to send, and give me time to meet the beauteous girl, with due honour, on the way. He is not wont to disobey my orders. See you none coming, slave?" he again vociferated. "See you none coming?" "On my head be it, Khan, I see not one speck moving in the whole of the glen," answered the page. "Am I your Khan, that you hasten not?" he cried, to some attendants waiting at a little distance. "Do you, Zand, take the fleetest steed, and fly towards Ghelendjik for three hours, returning without delay; and see that you bring me tidings of my coming bride, or of my brother's messengers." The man hastened to obey the order, the Khan continuing his irregular and agitated walk as before, every now and then turning his glance down the glen, then shouting to his watchman to learn if he had caught sight of any one approaching. The answer was as before. His impatience increased. "Saddle me a steed, knaves--haste, fly. Am I not your Khan, that you make no better speed?" A horse was quickly brought him; when, throwing himself into the saddle, he rode furiously down the dark ravine; but he soon returned, on the back of the panting animal, from the fruitless search. His temper was not assuaged by his headlong and heating ride; as throwing the reins to a slave, who stood trembling to take his horse, he resumed his hurried walk in front of his dwelling. Another hour passed, when the look-out man, on the watch-tower, gave notice that he saw a horseman coming up the glen. As he approached nearer, he proved to be only one of the messengers despatched in the morning, and he reported that he could gain no intelligence of any of the young Khan's escort. The shades of evening were beginning to throw a deep gloom into the glen, when the look-out man again cried that he saw a party of horsemen approaching. The Khan instantly threw himself on a gaily caparisoned steed, preceded by his banner-bearer. His squire and pages followed, with the principal of his retainers, and galloped down the glen to meet the expected bride. What was his rage and disappointment when he did not see his brother's towering form, or the white veil of the betrothed; but met, instead, the travel-worn and agitated band of retainers who had set out with him? "Where is my brother, and where my bride?" he exclaimed, riding furiously towards them with his drawn scimitar uplifted. "Say, caitiffs, ere I slay you." "As Allah is great, we dare not say, Khan, where your brother is. We know not--we cannot speak," answered the foremost of the party. "The fair daughter of the Uzden Arslan Gherrei is with her father." "What! does she not come with my brother? Speak, slaves; answer, I charge you," cried the Khan.