“‘My child, these songs sink in my soul; they calm me! Tears, oh, tears! Yes, tears at last! I had so much need to weep.’ “And I felt two burning tears fall on my brow. “‘Oh, my mother, my mother!’ ‘Silence, my child, be silent!’ said she, putting one of her hands upon my mouth, and pointing to the window with the other. ‘Listen to the voice! listen! there it is! there it is!’” Reine, deeply moved, pressed the hand of Stephanette as she shook her head with a touching expression of pity. The Bohemian continued: “The moon of my country shines as the sun of this country. “In its light slowly passed the young emir, mounted on Azib, his beautiful white horse. “Azib, gentle as a lamb, courageous as a lion, white as a swan. “The emir let his reins fall on the neck of Azib. Happy, he sang of a happy love, and accompanied himself on his guzla. “His songs were not joyous: they were tender; they were melancholy. “He passed, singing. “‘Silence, child, silence!’ whispered my mother, pressing my hand convulsively. ‘That voice divine does me so much good!’ “Hélas! by degrees the voice died away; the emir had passed; the voice was gone; then one heard nothing more,--nothing more; not a sound. “‘Ah, I fall back in the dreadful horror of my night,’ said my mother. ‘This celestial music seemed to dissipate the darkness. Alas! alas!’ and she wrung her hands in despair. “Alas! all night she wept. “The morrow her despair increased; her reason grew feeble. In her delirium she called me a wicked son. She accused me of silencing this voice. If she heard this voice no more, she must die. “She was, indeed, going to die. For many hours she refused all nourishment. What could I do? What could I do? “The emir of our tribe was the most powerful of emirs. “If he raised his djerid ten thousand cavaliers mounted horse. “His palace was worthy of the sultan, his treasures immense. Alas! how could I dare conceive the thought of saying to him, ‘Come, and by your songs snatch an old and despairing woman from death?’ “And yet that I dared. My mother had perhaps but a few more hours to live. I went to the palace.” “And the emir?” cried Reine, deeply moved and interested, while Stephanette, not less excited than her mistress, clasped her hands in admiration. The Bohemian gave the two young girls a glance of indescribable sadness, and said, interrupting this kind of improvising, and laying his instrument on his knees: “‘My mother was a woman,’ said the emir to me, and he came.” “He came!” exclaimed Reine, with enthusiasm. “Ah, the noble heart!”