“Oh, Allah, grant that he meet not my father or Selem there!” exclaimed Ina, in accents of terror.
“I know not what may happen, child,” said the old nurse. “They say he is a fierce chief. I hear, too, that he sought your hand. Mashallah! but you might have been proud to wed so rich a Khan; and yet, Bosh! what is he even to a merchant of Stamboul?”
“Why could you not love him?” asked Zara; “they say he is of gallant appearance.”
“Ah, Zara! love him? you know not what love is, to ask such a question. Love him! No! I could only fear him, he looks so stern and fierce; so unlike the calm and grave features of my father,” said Ina.
“What is all this stuff the girls are talking about love?” chimed in the old nurse. “Bosh! what nonsense is this? Love! What is love? it is nothing; it is worse than nothing; it is folly—it is Bosh! What should maidens know about love? Let them be married, and then it is time to love their lords and masters.”
Ina and Zara were in despair; for it was hopeless to carry on any interesting conversation on their own feelings, with the constant observations and interruptions of old Kahija; who could be very entertaining at times, when she had the whole of the conversation to herself, with her wonderful stories about Turkey and Stamboul. They were relieved, however, from the dulness their constrained silence threw over them, by the entrance of Conrin, with a small packet from his master to Ina.
We have said that Arslan Gherrei had been educated in Turkey, and held a high post in the army of the Sultan, where he acquired many accomplishments very unusual to the generality of his countrymen. In the calm retreat of his daughter’s anderoon, when no strangers were by to witness his occupation, he had endeavoured to cultivate her youthful mind by the aid of the few books he had brought with him; and he had taught her not only to speak, but to read and write Turkish, accomplishments possessed probably by no other maiden in Circassia; for few were blessed with fathers equally heroic in war, and capable of enjoying the blessings of peace.
Zara, ignorant of her friend’s accomplishments, looked with mute surprise when Ina, taking the note from the page’s hand, hastily broke the thread which tied it, and read an account of the safety of her father and brother, as far as they had as yet proceeded in their warlike operations. The page was equally eager.
“Tell me, lady, tell me is my dear master in safety?” he said.
“Yes he is. Allah be praised! he and my father are well; and he tells me not to forget my care of you, Conrin.”