this token. We may never meet again; but
it will be a means of communion. If good
fortune is with me, it will retain its brightness;
if evil, it will dim. If I cease to love,
and the grave opens for me, it will become
black." Lisa wept at the thought of her
lover's death, and took the ring. They
exchanged no more words; and presently
afterwards the young girl leaped from the boat
upon the extreme point of the rock and
listened to the approach of her guardian. She
did not reply to them, for her eyes and her
mind were following Koja, who was sailing
on towards the open sea—out, out, towards
the place where the sun had gone down
—moving to and fro like a shadow, for light
was gradually fading, the sail growing
gradually dimmer and dimmer until the eye
confounded it sometimes with the great white
birds that were coming landward, flying low
and wearily along the waters. At length it
faded altogether, because night began to come
rapidly on; then Lisa said: " I came down
to the sea-side with a soul; now it is gone,
This is only the form of Lisa. My soul is
floating over the waters. Let us go home;
the wind is chill, and life's heat has departed
from me."

"Woe! woe! " murmured Margota. " The
master of that boat was a magician; and he
hath cast a spell upon the girl. What have I
done?"

So they returned to the house; and Lisa
remained day after day lamenting the loss of
her soul. She knew that love, such as hers,
was destined in this world to bring unhappiness
to those who suffered it. Marriages
among her people are not based on affection.
A husband is chosen by the father, and the
daughter is not even asked if she can hope for
happiness with him. There was no chance
that Koja would be selected; for she knew
he was of a different race, a race who
worshipped God in a different manner, made
bows and prostrations in the Church according
to another ritual, kissed the palm of the
priest's hand instead of the tips of his fingers,
and was altogether, therefore, an alien and an
enemy. She also knew that the merchant,
her father, had quarrelled with the father of
Koja for the possession of a ship, so that
there was a feud between them. The idea
of struggling against law and custom never
occurred to her; and she sat down in the
chamber, which had appeared in the morning
so bright and cheerful, to nurse the young
love that had been born, as sadly, as if the
grave was already open to receive it.

In the meanwhile, Koja, who equally understood
that a fatal passion had taken possession
of him, continued sailing out, long after the
sun had set and darkness had come on—heavy
at first, but then partly dissipated by the moon,
which rose over the distant mountains of
Lebanon. He felt that in the idle life which
he had hitherto led by his father's indulgence,
the great love which he had conceived would
prove poison to him; and he resolved at
once to dissipate his energies in adventure.
No thought of relations or friends troubled
him; and the narrator does not take the
trouble to form a justification. Passion is
always selfish; and all poets or romancers in
the East identify themselves with those who
yield to it, and never dream that any other
duties have a claim. Away sailed Koja,
until he saw a ship with many sails moving
slowly along in the moonlight. He hailed it,
and went on board, and voyaged with it to
the Grecian islands, and then to the Frank
countries, and back to Egypt. He went on
shore, and, pursuing his travels for many
years, visited Habesh and the Hejaz, and El
Hind, and Ajern, and many other countries.
In all these places many beautiful women
became enamoured of him, and sent to him
flowers which they had perfumed with their
sighs; but he listened to none, and when
they remonstrated with him by messengers
he departed from that city and went to
another. His heart was wholly occupied with
Lisa, whom it seemed impossible he should
meet again.

The young girl was equally constant, and
spent the chief part of her time in watching
the ring which Koja had given her, to know
whether it retained its brightness. Sometimes
it dulled a little; and as she was unwilling
to believe in misfortune, she reproached
herself with want of care, and took soft linen
and rubbed it; but it changed not by her
efforts, obeying all the varied fortunes of
the departed one. This ring is not supposed
to have been originally endowed with any
miraculous powers, but derived its marvellous
quality simply from the intensity with which
Koja had wished for a means of communion
with his beloved one.

When the merchant returned from
Damascus his first talk was of a husband for
Lisa; but the young girl, knowing there was
but one means of escape, feigned madness,
and went about the house with flowers and
straw in her hair, singing wildly. Margota
and Zarifeh knew the cause of this, but they
dared not reveal it; and so the merchant
grieved, and Lisa remained a maiden, pitied
by the whole city. Koja was forgotten,
except by his father, who set up a cenotaph
for him, and mourned over it for a whole day
once a year—the anniversary of the day on
which the youth had disappeared, floating
away in his boat towards the setting sun.

Time passed on; and Lisa was no
longer a young girl, but a full-grown woman,
still beautiful; yet no longer sought in
marriage. She remained in her father's house;
while her sisters, who were mere children when
the meeting with Koja took place, all found
husbands, and soon brought pretty babies for
her to admire and nurse. One night, after
seven years had gone to the past, the
merchant, happening to be sleepless, heard a
voice raised in lamentation. So, he got up