but there was nothing; I called my slave,
who came with a light and searched the
room; and there was nothing. Then I knew
that I had dreamed, and turned upon my
pillow again, and sought to return to the
country which I had quitted. Soon I slept
again, and the same maiden appeared—but
this time afar off beckoning me to follow. I
endeavoured to rise, but my limbs had lost
their vigour. I struggled; but in vain. The
earth drew me still closer to it, until I burst
away into consciousness, and found myself
trembling in the bed. From that time I
pined for love of the maiden of my dream,
and nought would content rue. My friends
at first laughed and mocked; but when I
became in truth sick and pale, and unable to
rise from the bed—unable and unworthy; for
whenever I slumbered, the same form of
beauty appeared—when I drew near to the
gates of death, they brought to me a wise
man who inquired into my case, and smiled
when he heard what had befallen, saying—

"The remedy is not easy; for the road is
long, and there are dangers by the way. But
if thou hast courage, thou wilt hear what
thou wishest murmuring amidst the leaves of
the Whispering Tree." He then told me that
this tree was situated at a place called Kama,
in Khorassan, beyond Persia. I instantly sold
all my goods, and prepared to depart with a
caravan that was bound for Tripoli; after we
had travelled a mouth, we came to a country
where there was war; and we were compelled
to traverse the regions of Thibet, and the
Haronj Mountains, and the Wahs, and to
travel through many disasters to Egypt.
This is the reason why we have met; and
now it will be better for us both to journey
together in search of this wonderful tree.

When Hanna heard what this young man
said, that Kama was in the country of
Khorassan beyond Persia, he doubted not but
that he should hear there some news of the
lost Lisbet and her child. He therefore
resolved to depart in company with the young
man, whose name was Gorges, although the
prudent Malek objected his great age, and
the possibility of danger and death. In a
few days the worthy merchant had closed his
business for that season, and with a purse
of money and a case of jewels, was ready to
accompany the love-lorn Gorges.

The narrative need not trace their itinerary.
Many months elapsed ere the young and the
old traveller—the toys of love and parental
affection—were wandering, disguised in
humble raiment, through the wilds of
Khorassan, asking of the rare people they met
for a place called Kama. Nobody seemed
able to give them any intelligence. The place
was a place unknown. They began to think
they were the victims of delusion; and when
'hey had passed several years in the vain
starch, it is said that they became, as it were,
mad. They thought and talked of nothing
the Whispering Tree of Kama. The
people in the villages and the encampment
knew them as the strange questioners, and
pitied their case; and instead of harming
them whenever they met them on the road,
would cry, " Has there any news been heard
by ye, O melancholy searchers? O father!
O brother! has the unknown place been
made known? Has the secret been revealed?"
Thus they continued wearying the desert
with constant going to and fro, until Hanna
became a bent shadow, and the youth grew
to be a bearded man.

It happened one evening, as they were going
through a mountainous country which they
had not hitherto trodden, far on the way to
Bukharia, they came to a small valley locked
in the embraces of rugged rocks.  Its surface
was like a green emerald. Grass, and shrubs,
and trees, and flowers, spread to the feet of
perpendicular cliffs. A silver stream wound
here and there, as if unwilling to leave so
pleasant a spot, and at last gathered into a
small lake without apparent issue. The two
wayfarers expected to find a village where
they might pass the night. But there was no
sign of human habitation. The night began
balmily; the stars shone warmly; there
was scarcely any breeze; and the little
that blew was warm and fragrant as the
breath of woman. Hanna and Gorges lay
down under the shadow of a tree, and slept
as the travel-weary alone can sleep.

They both dreamed a dream—if dream it
was. The tree above their heads began to
wave and wave its boughs; murmurs seemed
to creep from every leaf; there was a hum.
and a buzz, as if a swarm of bees was settling
over head; and by degrees a chorus of small
voices seemed to sing: "This is Kama,
Kama, Kama! Go no further; but tarry
here. Rest and peace will find you; for this
is Kama, Kama, Kama!"

All night long the same melody refreshed
their ears; and an evil spirit, who bent over
them intending to do them wrong, fled away;
for, on seeing their smile of happiness, he
said to himself—"That is the smile of the
angels of God!"

The birds were singing when the old man
and the young awoke. The name of Kama
was still ringing in their ears; and it seemed
as if the thrush that had come to perch in the
boughs overhead was repeating it. Suddenly
a clear sweet voice sounded over the meadow,
and the wayfarers beheld a maiden with a jar
upon her head, tripping lightly along a pathway
that passed near them and led to the
stream. She was singing, and the burden of
her song was: "Fair is the valley of
Kama!" Hanna turned up his eyes with
gratitude towards the Whispering Tree; but
Gorges kept gazing intently at the maiden.
His dream stood before him embodied.

The maiden of Kama was alarmed at first
at the aspect of strangers; but they soon
contrived to reassure her, and bidding them wait
until she returned from the stream, she