How was it possible for Ali to conceal his sentiments any longer?
“Gulhyndi,” he cried, “the youth which the good fairy promised you, you have already found, if you will be satisfied with my love and fidelity.”
“Ali,” said she, trembling, “let not compassion for an unhappy being make you think you love her.”
“I have not known before this day what love is,” said he; “but if it be a feeling that supplants every other, and makes the beloved object its sole desire on earth, then I love you.”
She could find no words in answer; her arms embraced the happy Ali, and in the first kiss he enjoyed the highest happiness.
“But,” continued she, when she had in a measure recovered from the first transport, “you still must flee, Ali, you must leave your country if you love me. Oh, Allah, how could I expect this from thee,” she exclaimed, with a sigh; “no, no, I shall act against the warning of my good fairy. She promised me a lover with whom I should not be compelled to flee, who should dwell with me in my tents. Alas, Ali, this is impossible with you, and without you the world has no joys for me.”
“Be of good cheer, beloved Gulhyndi, my father is a wealthy and respected man; I do not know yours, but he cannot have any objection to our union if the wealthy Ibrahim solicits you for his son, and grants him the dowry.”
He had scarcely uttered these words, when the terrified Maria came running to them, and crying: “For Heaven’s sake, children, compose yourselves as you value your life. Your father is coming,” she said to Gulhyndi; “play, play,” she said, to Ali.
He took the guitar and had scarcely played a few notes, when Hussain Cadi entered the arbour. Ali’s terror may easily be conceived. His hand almost dropped the guitar so greatly was he embarrassed.
Hussain looked at him attentively. “Is this the Greek slave, daughter,” he asked, “whom your nurse procured to instruct you in music?”