At length the sound of a distant footstep approaching the dwelling, caught her ear, she started from the reverie. “Run, Buda, run!” she cried, in tones of silvery sweetness, “haste, maiden! and see who approaches; but whoever they may be, stop them from coming here. Say I can see no one to-day; I am ill at ease; I should weep to see strangers. Shew them to the guest room, but not here. Say I would see friends another day, but I cannot now. Go, child.”
The little girl was flying to obey these mandates, when the young beauty stooped for a moment, in the attitude of listening. “Stay, Buda, stay; it is useless. My fears have made me fanciful. Those are my father’s footsteps. Haste, Buda, to usher him to my apartment.”
While she spoke, the subject of her meditations appeared at the entrance of the apartment, ushered in, according to etiquette, by the youthful slave. As he entered, he bowed low, his lofty plumed helmet touching the door-sill, and as his graceful daughter rose from her silken cushions to receive and welcome him, he folded her in a tender embrace.
He was a warrior of commanding and majestic stature, clothed in complete armour. His coat of mail richly inlaid with gold, shone brightly with steel of the highest polish. His curling dark moustache and beard were yet untinged by any of the hues which betoken the approach of age, though his stern and fine features were marked with many furrows, indicating deep thought and numerous cares. He raised from his head his glittering helm, which his daughter respectfully took and placed by her side, as he seated himself on the ottoman and beckoned her to sit near him.
“It is long, my father,” said the fair girl, “since I have rejoiced in the light of your presence; and oh, what pleasure do you bring to me when you come! I was before sad and thoughtful, and now I feel light and happy. Say, what has kept you so long away?”
“My own sweet Ina,” answered the chieftain, “in these times of war and of constant peril, I have many things to attend to; and it does not become a warrior to spare many moments from his duties, even though he spend them in soft intercourse with one so loved as you, my child. I have even but now returned from mustering the small remnant of the faithful followers whom his foes have left to Arslan Gherrei; to see that they are well supplied with arms, horses and food, for a campaign. But why, Ina, were you just now, so sad and thoughtful?”
“Oh do not ask me, my father! now that I am again happy,” replied the daughter. “I did but for a moment feel somewhat ill, and feared that guests were coming whom I did not wish to receive. I am well again, my father, now that you are with me.”
“I have matter of importance to communicate to you,” said the chief, “you know Ina, that I so love you, that for all the riches of the mighty Padishah of the Osmanlis, I would not part from you; but yet, sweet one, the stern necessity of war compels me to leave you, and I must haste to join the hosts of my countrymen to repel our invaders. I may perchance fall, and leave you unprotected.”
“Do not say so, my father,” cried the lovely Ina. “Surely heaven will protect us, as it has done before. But why this sudden haste? Stay but some short time longer with me, and among your fields and retainers. Nothing can have happened to call you so quickly away.”
“It may not be, dear daughter. Now listen to my words. I have already told you that the valiant Khan, the noble Khoros Kaloret, has seen you—that he loves you. He is rich and brave; hundreds of retainers obey his commands and follow him to battle. He has numerous slaves who till his fields; rich pastures on which large herds of cattle graze; innumerable flocks wander over his mountains, while none can boast of finer horses or richer armour. What more can I say of him? He has sent his brother, who has just arrived, as an envoy to demand you in marriage, and I have spoken much to him. He says that he loves you, truly and deeply—that he would sacrifice half his possessions to gain you. Nay, tremble not, loved one. You know that horses, cattle, or the richest armour, are but as nought compared to you—that I would give all I have for your sake; but yet in this time of war, when any moment may lay me low, I would find some gallant protector who would shield you from danger; that when I am in the land of the blessed spirits, I may look down and see my child happy. Many there are who would be to me as a son, and would gladly accept your hand and succeed to my possessions; but none appear to win my Ina’s heart. Say, will my child become the bride of the Khan?”