“Do I indeed see thee? and dost thou still love thy Nerinda?” said the maiden.
“Love thee?” replied the youth in an impassioned tone, “thy image is entwined with every fibre of my heart. They may tear thee from me, they may destroy me if they will, but while life remains I cannot cease to love.”
“Alas!” said Nerinda, “weeks have passed since I saw thee, and I feared—I—.” She stopped confused, for Hassan had seized her hand, and was pressing it to his lips with an energy which showed how well he understood what was passing in her mind.
“Oh! Nerinda,” said he, “I have entreated, I have implored thy father to bestow thee on me, but in vain, for all the money I could offer was not one tenth of the sum he requires; yet do not despair,” he said, as the color faded from her cheek, “I still may hope if thou remainest constant.”
“This very morning,” continued Hassan, “I sought thy father; at first he was unwilling to listen to me. At length I prevailed on him to hearken, even if he refused his assent to what I proposed: but he did not refuse. Pleased with my anxiety to obtain thee, he has promised that if in two years I can gain the required sum thou shalt be my wife; if I cannot he will wait no longer, but part with thee to him who will pay the highest price.”
The voice of the youth faltered—he was scarcely able to continue, “in two days I am to take all the money my father can spare, and join the caravan which proceeds to the south; fear not,” said he, replying to the alarm expressed in her varying countenance, “there is no danger, the caravan is large, and if fortunate as a trader, I shall return before two years have passed to claim my plighted bride. Wilt thou be true? may I trust thee?” were questions the lover asked, though he felt sure the answers would be such as he could desire, and when the assurance was given, he for the first time ventured to impress a kiss on those beautiful lips. Long did they thus converse, but at length they parted; Nerinda promising to come to the same spot on the next evening to bid him farewell.
They parted, Hassan vainly endeavoring to inspire Nerinda with his own hopes. She almost sank under the trial, and it was many days before she had strength to revisit the bank of turf, their accustomed trysting place. When she did, how changed did all appear; the flowers were still blooming around; the stream flowed on with its accustomed murmur; the birds carolled sweetly as of old; where then was the change? Alas! it was in her own heart: joy and happiness had fled with Hassan, and melancholy had taken their place.
Two years and six months had passed since the departure of the youth, and there seemed little probability of his return; even his venerable father mourned him as dead, when a company of traders entered the mountains. One of them was an old acquaintance in the valley. He renewed his solicitations to the father of Nerinda, that she might be placed under his charge; offering the highest price, and promising that her future lot should be as brilliant and delightful as her past had been obscure. The shepherd was greatly disappointed by the non-appearance of Hassan, for he would have preferred keeping his daughter near him if he could have done so with advantage to himself, but being poor as well as avaricious, and imagining he should be perfectly happy if possessed of so much wealth as the trader offered, he consented to part with her, who had ever been his chief delight, and the pride of his heart.
Language cannot paint the consternation of Nerinda when she learned her father’s determination. The delay of Hassan she accounted for by supposing he had not yet acquired the full amount necessary for his purpose, and hoped that after a while he would return to call her his. Now all hope was at an end. Hassan might still come, but she would be far distant, perhaps the wife of another. Her mother and sister too shared her grief, for they thought it would be impossible to live without Nerinda; but all entreaties and lamentations were vain, the shepherd had made the bargain and would abide by it; and she was hurried to the caravan in a state little short of insensibility.
And where was Hassan? He had determined in the first place to proceed with the caravan to Mecca, whither it was bound, and laying out the money he possessed in merchandise, to trade at the different towns on their route. Before they arrived at the holy city he had consequently so greatly increased his store, that he felt no doubt he should be able to return before the time appointed; but meeting soon afterward with a heavy loss, he was thrown back when he least expected it, and at the end of two years had not more than half the amount required. To return without it was useless, and he set about repairing his loss with a heavy heart. Six months passed in this endeavor, at the end of which time he found himself rich enough to return, but it was necessary he should proceed to Constantinople to settle some business, and join a caravan which was going toward his native country. His anxiety increased every day: of what avail would be his wealth, if she, for whose sake it had been accumulated, was lost forever?