“You will have many opportunities yet, believe me, Nicæus, of proving your courage and your patriotism,” replied Iskander; “Amurath will never allow this affair to pass over in this quiet manner. I did not commence this struggle without a conviction that it would demand all the energy and patience of a long life. I shall be rewarded if I leave freedom as an heritage to my countrymen; but for the rest, I feel that I bid farewell to every joy of life, except the ennobling consciousness of performing a noble duty. In the meantime, I understand a messenger awaits me here from the great Hunniades. Unless that shield of Christendom maintain himself in his present position, our chance of ultimate security is feeble. With his constant diversion in Bulgaria, we may contrive here to struggle into success. You sometimes laugh at my sanguine temper, Nicæus. To say the truth, I am more serene than sanguine, and was never more conscious of the strength of my opponent than now, when it appears that I have beaten him. Hark! the people cheer. I love the people, Nicæus, who are ever influenced by genuine and generous feelings. They cheer as if they had once more gained a country. Alas! they little know what they must endure even at the best. Nay! look not gloomy; we have done great things, and will do more. Who waits without there? Demetrius! Call the messenger from Lord Hunniades.” An Epirot bearing a silken packet was now introduced, which he delivered to Iskander. Reverently touching the hand of his chieftain, the messenger then kissed his own and withdrew. Iskander broke the seal, and drew forth a letter from the silken cover. “So! this is well!” exclaimed the prince, with great animation, as he threw his quick eye over the letter. “As I hoped and deemed, a most complete victory. Karam Bey himself a prisoner, baggage, standards, great guns, treasure. Brave soldier of the Cross! (may I prove so!) Your perfectly-devised movement, (poh, poh!) Hah! what is this?” exclaimed Iskander, turning pale; his lip quivered, his eye looked dim. He walked to an arched window. His companion, who supposed that he was reading, did not disturb him. “Poor, poor Hunniades!” at length exclaimed Iskander, shaking his head. “What of him?” inquired Nicæus, quickly. “The sharpest accident of war!” replied Iskander. “It quite clouds my spirit. We must forget these things, we must forget. Epirus! he is not a patriot who can spare a thought from thee. And yet, so young, so beautiful, so gifted, so worthy of a hero! when I saw her by her great father’s side, sharing his toils, aiding his councils, supplying his necessities, methought I gazed upon a ministering angel! upon--” “Stop, stop in mercy’s name, Iskander!” exclaimed Nicæus, in a very agitated tone. “What is all this? Surely no, surely not, surely Iduna--” “‘Tis she!” “Dead?” exclaimed Nicæus, rushing up to his companion, and seizing his arm. “Worse, much worse!”