She was indeed (as she stood irresolute and perplexed from the peculiarity of her situation, yet not wanting in courage when, it was to be called forth) an object well worthy of gaze and admiration. Her features thrown into broad light and shade by the candle which at times was half extinguished by the wind--her symmetry of form and the gracefulness and singularity of her attire--were matter of astonishment to Philip. Her head was without covering, and her long hair fell in plaits behind her shoulders; her stature was rather under the middle size, but her form perfect; her dress was simple but becoming, and very different from that usually worn by the young women of the district. Not only her features but her dress would at once have indicated to a traveller that she was of Arab blood, as was the fact. She looked in Philip's face as she spoke--earnestly, as if she would have penetrated into his inmost thoughts; but there was a frankness and honesty in his bearing, and a sincerity in his manly countenance, which reassured her. After a moment's hesitation she replied-- "Come in, sir; I feel that I can trust you." Philip entered. The door was then closed and made secure. "We have no time to lose, maiden," said Philip: "but tell me your name, that I may address you as I ought." "My name is Amine," replied she, retreating a little. "I thank you for that little confidence; but I must not dally. What arms have you in the house, and have you ammunition?" "Both. I wish that my father would come home." "And so do I," replied Philip, "devoutly wish he would, before these murderers come; but not, I trust, while the attack is making, for there's a carbine loaded expressly for his head, and if they make him prisoner, they will not spare his life, unless his gold and your person are given in ransom. But the arms, maiden--where are they?" "Follow me," replied Amine, leading Philip to an inner room on the upper floor. It was the sanctum of her father, and was surrounded with shelves filled with bottles and boxes of drugs. In one corner was an iron chest, and over the mantel-piece were a brace of carbines and three pistols. "They are all loaded," observed Amine, pointing to them, and laying on the table the one which she had held in her hand. Philip took down the arms, and examined all the primings. He then took up from the table the pistol which Amine had laid there, and threw open the pan. It was equally well prepared. Philip closed the pan, and with a smile observed, "So this was meant for me, Amine?" "No--not for you--but for a traitor, had one gained admittance." "Now, maiden," observed Philip, "I shall station myself at the casement which you opened, but without a light in the room. You may remain here, and can turn the key for your security." "You little know me," replied Amine. "In that way at least I am not fearful; I must remain near you and reload the arms--a task in which I am well practised."