"
"Thou hast said it," replied Halil, shipping the oars, for the rising
evening breeze had stiffened out the sail and the little boat was flying
along of its own accord; then he sat him down beside his wife and
continued, "I am indeed sending thee to a remote and hidden valley,
where a little hut stands on the banks of a purling stream. I have
prepared it for thee, and there shalt thou dwell with thy child."
"And thou thyself?"
"I will guide thee to the opposite shore, there an old family servant of
thy father's awaits thee with saddled mules. He loves thee dearly, and
will bring thee into that quiet valley and he must never leave thee."
"And thou?"
"This little coffer thou wilt take with thee; it contains money which I
got from thy father; no curse, no blood is upon it, it shall be thine
and thy children's."
"And thou?" inquired Guel-Bejaze for the third time, and she was very
near to bursting into tears.
"I shall have to return to Stambul. But I will come after thee. Perhaps
to-morrow, perhaps the day after to-morrow, perhaps later still. It may
be very much sooner, it may be much later. But thou wait for me. Every
evening spread the table for me, for thou knowest not when I may
arrive."
The tears of Guel-Bejaze began to fall upon the child she held to her
breast.
"Why weepest thou?" asked Halil. "'Tis foolish of thee. Leave-taking is
short, suspense only is long. It will be better with thee than with me,
for thou wilt have the child while I shall have nothing left, yet I do
not weep because we shall so soon meet again.
Pages:
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208