But the hour of trial came at last. Selim had redeemed his word, and Bulhakoff was free. His companions in captivity would fain have quitted the fortress within the hour; but the liberated prisoner lingered. He gave no reason for his delay; he offered no explanation of his motives; he simply announced his resolution not to quit the Tower until the morrow; and then he shut himself into his chamber, and passed there several of the most bitter hours of his captivity. Once more twilight lay long upon the waters—the time of tryst was come—the last which the beautiful young Hanoum was ever to keep with her lover. She had long forgotten the possibility of his liberation; and when she stole from her chamber to the shadow of the tall cypresses that had so often witnessed their meeting, her heart bounded like her step. But no fond smile welcomed her coming—no reproach, more dear than praise, murmured against her tardiness—Bulhakoff was leaning his head against the tree beside which he stood, and the young beauty had clasped within her own the chill and listless hand that hung at his side, ere with a painful start he awakened from his reverie. The interview was short; but brief as was its duration it had taught the wretched girl that for her there was no future save one of misery. She did not weep—her burning eyeballs were too hot for tears. She _could_ not weep, for the drops of anguish would have dimmed the image of him whom she had loved, and was about to lose. She made no reply to the withering tidings he had brought, for what had words to do with such a grief as her’s? She was like one who dreamt a fearful dream; and when she turned away to regain her chamber, she walked with a firm step, for her heart was broken; and she had nothing now left to do but to veil from her lover the extent of her own anguish, lest she should add to the bitterness of his. The morrow came. The Baron turned a long, soul-centered look-towards the lattices of his young love, and quitted her for ever; and, ere many weeks were spent, the same group of cypresses which had overshadowed the trysting-place of Rèchèdi Hanoum gloomed above her grave. CHAPTER XXIV. Balouclè—The New Church—Delightful Road—Eyoub—The Cemetery—The Rebel’s Grave—The Mosque of Blood—The Hill of Graves—The Seven Towers—The Palace of Belisarius—The City Walls—Easter Festivities—The Turkish Araba—The Armenian Carriage—Travellers—Turkish Women—Seridjhes—Persians—Irregular Troops—The Plain of Balouclè—Laughable Mistake—Extraordinary Discretion—The Church of Balouclè—The Holy Well—Absurd Tradition—The Chapel Vault—Enthusiasm of the Greeks—A Pleasant Draught—Greek Substitute for a Bell—Violent Storm.