Presently one of these officers said: "There is another singer, and the last.

Is it the Effendina's pleasure ?" Kaid made a gesture of assent, sat down, and took the stem of a narghileh between his lips.

For a moment there was silence, and then, out upon the sweet, perfumed night, over which the stars hung brilliant and soft and near, a voice at first quietly, then fully, and palpitating with feeling, poured forth an Eastern love song: "Take thou thy flight, O soul! Thou hast no more The gladness of the morning! Ah, the perfumed roses My love laid on my bosom as I slept! How did he wake me with his lips upon mine eyes, How did the singers carol--the singers of my soul That nest among the thoughts of my beloved!...
All silent now, the choruses are gone, The windows of my soul are closed; no more Mine eyes look gladly out to see my lover come.
There is no more to do, no more to say: Take flight, my soul, my love returns no more!" At the first note Kaid started, and his eyes fastened upon the screen behind which sat the singer.

Then, as the voice, in sweet anguish, filled the court-yard, entrancing them all, rose higher and higher, fell and died away, he got to his feet, and called out hoarsely: "Come--come forth!" Slowly a graceful, veiled figure came from behind the great screen.

He took a step forward.
"Zaida! Zaida!" he said gently, amazedly.
She salaamed low.