422 THE IKON NAIt. 



" Yes, Zahab, I know thee now !" said Ali, in a low, deep, tremu- 

 lous tone ; and his hand convulsively, but vainly sought to clutch hi 

 poniard. 



" Effendi ! You once gave me gold for blood! and you thought me 

 paid. Fool ! The heart I bear is immense void and unfilled as the 

 insatiable sea ! Not all the treasures of the Indies, of Persia, or of 

 Araby can fill that void. Thou alone canst do it, Effendi ! Disarmed 

 as you are, with my sabre at your throat, you hold my life in your 

 hands nay, more than life, my peace! my happiness! Be generous 

 once again for the last time I swear it shall be the last. Before, I 

 envied you your palace, your luxury, your wealth, now, I envy you 

 your wife ! 'Tis Ildiz, with her eyes like the stars of heaven for whom 

 I die ! Give her to me, Effendi ! give her to me, and I will retire 

 with her to my native deserts to the tents of my brethren, and the 

 world shall never see me more ' You answer me not ! A smile of 

 scorn is upon your lip ! Ali-Effendi give me thy wife, or plunge 

 this dagger in her heart ! Take thy choice 'tis my last word !" 



" Ali !" said Ildiz faintly she had drawn herself with difficulty to 

 his feet " my husband ! whom I have loved so dearly, let me die let 

 me die by thy hand !" Zahab drew a dagger from its sheath of silver. 

 " Effendi ! hast thou chosen ?" 



" Give it me," said Ali, in a low but firm voice. Ildiz sprung up 

 to clasp her husband, but ere she could give him this last embrace, 

 with a stifled scream she fell at his feet in her heart's blood ! 



The eyes of Ali glared upon his savage foe, as holding the dagger 

 in his hand, red with the blood of her he loved, he thought upon 

 revenge ; but like a fell executioner there stood the Arab, with his 

 deadly blade uplifted ready to strike ! The poniard dropped from 

 Ali's grasp. He remembered the same image in the desert, and 

 covering his face with his hands, he bowed down his head, as though 

 stricken with despair. All was still, save the convulsive sobs that 

 broke from the overcharged bosom of Ali, and the deep-drawn 

 breath of the Arab. At that moment Ildiz sighed faintly her last 

 sigh ! Gusts of passion swept over the soul of the Syrian, succeeded 

 alternately by the faintness of death. 



" Arab ! art thou satisfied ?" murmured he. 

 " I am, my heart is at rest !" 



" Dog of a Bedouin ! with a heart blacker than a fiend of hell ! 

 leave me.'' 



" You forget Effendi, that I still possess the nail /" and with one 

 blow of his ruthless sabre he struck the beautiful head of Ildez from 

 her body, and twisting the long shining tresses round the nail, left it 

 hanging beside the ghastly remains of her father ! 



"Now, brave Effendi, adieu !" said the Bedouin, his face gleaming 

 with a demon's joy ; " rest in pe;ice beside the body you have loved so 

 much ; but remember, on your peril touch that nail, it is mine; and 

 I will hold possession to the last. Thus shall your saloon be deco- 

 rated until that beautiful flesh shall fade, and the bones fall asunder 

 by decay. Thus shall our contract continue farewell !" The soul 

 of Ali was subdued, he was smitten ta the dust. Tears uncontrolled 

 rolled in big round drops, and forced their way, as, with his face 

 still covered, he bent over the bleeding body of his murdered wife. 



