"They have no charms for me; I desire only to look on you, to love you, Sitta Nefysseh! To remain with you and dream of bliss, and perhaps--""Be still!" cried she, interrupting him. "Do you wish my women to hear what your folly dictates? Mourad's widow commands you to be silent. Now you have terminated our interview. Go, join your men!""Forgive me, Sitta, forgive me! By Allah, I entreat you, do not deal so severely with your poor Youssouf! You are lustrous, yet also cold like the diamond! You know no mercy; for, alas, you know not love!
Yet, I conjure you, be merciful; do not drive me from you; and Iswear that I will speak no more of love, but only serve you as your faithful slave!""Let us terminate this interview," said she, in a low voice. "Ishall remain convinced that you should not stay in my house, and you will therefore go.""I must go!" cried he, in despairing tones, "yet others may approach you! The great Bardissi will be welcome, and L'Elfi may also come.
They may speak to you of their love and adoration, but me you command to depart!""No, Youssouf," cried she, "to them I shall say, depart also! Iswear by Allah and by my--"
She stopped, she had almost pronounced the word that trembled on her lips. "By my love," she had almost said, yet, with quick command of herself, she added:
"By my honor, Bardissi and L'Elfi shall visit me no more! From this day the doors of my house are closed against all men; this I swear to you, Youssouf!""I cannot thank you for doing so," said Youssouf, sadly. "If no man is to cross your threshold, I also am banished from your presence, and I therefore rather entreat you to let others visit you, in order that I too may come to you sometimes."There was something so humble, so imploring in his voice and look, that Sitta Nefysseh's heart was touched against her will. She could not do otherwise, she held out her hand and gave him a kindly look.
"I have sworn that no other man should cross my threshold; but you, Youssouf, you may come sometimes."He starts, and gazes at her intently. Her voice sounds so sweet, so changed, and his eyes sparkle with delight.
She quickly withdraws her hand and looks down. She feels that she has betrayed herself for a moment, she feels the ardent gaze that is fastened on her, and dares not look up, for fear that he may read the love that is reflected in her eyes.
"Farewell, Youssouf Bey! I tell you, you may sometimes come, but farewell for the present."She turns, and, without looking at him again, goes into the other room, where her women are awaiting her. With a quick movement she draws the curtain over the door; she knows that no one must see him at this moment; she knows he will fall on his knees and kiss the place where she stood. Yes, she knows this, for she loves him, and understands his heart.
And she is right! He has fallen on his knees, and, again and again, kisses the spot where she stood. Then he stretches out his arms and opens his lips to utter a sweet word. Yet, he does not pronounce it, for, if what he thinks be true, the air itself may not hear it! No, his lips utter no word! He only kisses the air she has breathed. And now can he go, for she has said that he may return!
He turns and leaves the house; his soldiers have never seen their kachef's countenance so radiant as now. He mounts his horse, and gallops off through the streets, followed by his Mamelukes.
Sitta Nefysseh hears his horse's hoofs ring out against the pavement, and, like him, she sinks down upon her knees, and stretches out her arms. "Youssouf, I love you! Allah be praised, Ihave seen you again!"
