One evening Bertha sat with the emir on a lofty balcony, whence she commanded a beautiful prospect across the orange-groves towards the sea, her mind filled with pleasant remembrances of home. A cooling east wind played over the water, and rustled through the orange-trees, bearing sometimes leaves from their branches, and wafting them up to the damsel. “How,” said she, “if this wind, with its rustling leaves, came from the enchanter’s island, or from Damascus, and could bring me news what has become of the brave knight Hygies, and his infant son?” “Nay,” answered the emir, “How comes it, that you have never inquired of me what was the fate of the poor child?” “I know not wherefore I was silent,” said Bertha, “my heart always longed to hear more of him, and yet, when I was about to speak, methought as if by invisible hands a seal was imprinted on my lips, and I could not utter a word.” “That is indeed strange,” said the emir, “for I have felt always impelled to tell you more of that child and his fortunes, but the fear withheld me, that you would look on him, who was thus born in the enchanter’s cave and in the wild island, with aversion and terror. Know, then, that I myself am the son of the brave Hygies.” Bertha gazed at him with wonder, and at length said, “Why then should I be afraid of you, because you are the son of that renowned hero and the beautiful lady of Damascus? Rather should I expect to find in you a star of honour and courtesy, in whom I could confidently trust.” “A comet, rather you should have said,” answered Nurreddin, “or a destructive thunderbolt, terrifying the nations, and destroying many in its course; yet to future generations announcing happiness and prosperity.” “The nations must be very base,” said Bertha gravely, “if they look for aid to a single champion, and not from their own strength.” “Even to prevent them from becoming thus depraved,” said Nurreddin, “have I been sent into the world. I must kindle the fire and fan the flames; the fire of trial and purification, whereby many a peaceful roof will be overthrown, and many a blooming land laid waste, in order that, thereafter, all may be established better than heretofore. Believe me, noble lady, the nations of the earth may well be compared to the phœnix, and from time to time must be consumed by fire, that, arising from their ashes, they may prove their immortality and everlasting strength.” “I believe you are now led astray by a fearful delusion,” said Bertha; “but Heaven will, according to his divine wisdom, set you free from this temptation; and as for the destructive fires with which you now threaten the people, Providence will no doubt interfere for their protection.”