"It is not for us to question the will of those on high," dogmatized the soothsayer, with a pious gesture toward the ceiling. "Nor must we rejoice too much in the moment's happiness, for dark secrets lurk behind the veil, dark secrets lurk behind the veil, and all may not be well hereafter!" Hamul-Kammesh paused, as though he wished to allow this bit of wisdom time to seep in. "What dark secrets do you refer to, worthy sire?" I asked, using the native form of address. "It does not matter, my son. Let us pass them by!" he urged, with a grimace suggesting that he wished to be done with a distasteful topic. "Let us not be concerned with tomorrow's bitter draught till tomorrow is here. At present, we may consider only your good fortune. For Yulada has singled you out for rare good fortune." "Indeed?" "Indeed, my son! She has bidden you to smile upon a certain young maiden of our village, and has bidden that maiden to smile back upon you. Her name I need not mention, but it is the desire of Yulada that you woo this daughter of our tribe." Upon hearing this announcement, I tried not to appear too jubilant. "If it be the desire of Yulada," I acquiesced, in my most solemn tones, "then who am I to object? My own will is as nothing; I can only humbly offer my thanks, and accept whatever is granted." "Your spirit does you great credit, young man," approved Hamul-Kammesh, as with a sigh of relief he arose to leave. "I am glad to find that you have a proper humility." It was fortunate that the darkness was now so deep that the soothsayer could not see my face. "There is only one thing more," Hamul-Kammesh announced, as he stood again in the doorway. "Yulada decrees that your nuptials take place very soon. Yes, she decrees them at the time of the next full-moon. You will be ready then, my son?" "If Yulada decrees, I will be ready," said I, bowing my assent. And as the soothsayer went shuffling away through the lamplit village, I let my eyes travel to a crescent moon low-hanging above the western peaks. But as I stood there gazing across the valley and meditating upon my good fortune, I was not so exultant as I might have been; it was as if a shadow had passed across my life instead of a happy promise. Now that all appeared to be arranged and my marriage to Yasma was inevitable, the haze of my emotions was momentarily rent; I saw with a dispassionate vision, and asked myself whether it was not insane to link myself to this child of a primitive mountain race. Was it not worse than insane, since she belonged to a tribe that possessed qualities scarcely human, a tribe that seemed akin to the wild goose and the dove? So I questioned, as I had questioned more than once in the past; but now, since the fateful event appeared imminent, my doubts were deeper than ever before, and my fears more acute.