“I rejoice to see you so well.”

“Thanks to your prompt assistance and hospitality that I am not now at the bottom of the Bosphorus.”

“You were pretty close upon drowning, and must have been under water for some time, I should say.”

“I had indeed, and was very nearly exhausted,” answered Aphiz.

“But how came you in such a pitiable plight, what led you so far from the shore without a boat?”

“I—­that is to say—­”

“O, I see, some matter that you wish to keep a secret.  Very well; far be it from me to ask aught of thee, or urge thee to reveal any matter that might compromise thy feelings.”

“Not so,” answered Aphiz; “but were I to speak, I might criminate myself.”

“O, fear no such matter with me, were you an escaped prisoner from the law, I—­”

“What?” asked Aphiz, as he observed the young officer regarding him intently.

“Why, I should not betray you again into the Sultan’s power.  I have no real sympathy with these Turks, and would much rather serve you, who seem to be a stranger, than them.”

“Thanks, a thousand thanks,” answered Aphiz, warmly.

“Therefore, confide in me, and if I can serve thee, I will do so at once.”

“I will,” said Aphiz, who felt that the officer was honest in what he promised.

Then he told him how he had been condemned by the Sultan, for some private enmity, to die, but he carefully observed the utmost secrecy as to what the actual motive of his punishment really was.  He told how he had been borne in the execution boat to the usual spot for the execution of the sentence that had been pronounced upon him.  How he had been confined in the sack and cast into the sea, describing his first sensations and his struggle with his dagger until he cut himself free from the terrible confinement of his canvas prison.  How he had struggled beneath the element, and then of the fearful eddy into which he had been drawn, and finally how at last he rose to the surface near his own boat.

That was all that Captain Selim knew of the matter, and after hearing that Aphiz was a Circassian, he supplied him with an undress uniform to further his disguise, and bade him welcome as his guest.  Therefore when the Armenian doctor and Selim found that their conversation had been overheard by Aphiz, they neither feared his betraying him, nor suspected the deep interest that the young Circassian felt in the theme of their remarks.

“You were speaking of a slave of the Sultan’s harem, named Komel,” he said, approaching them.

“We were; and perhaps have spoken too plainly of a purpose for her release from bondage,” said the Armenian.

“Why too freely?”

“Because in a degree we have placed ourselves in your power, having spoken treason.”

“I care not whether it be treason or not,” replied Aphiz; “it was such as answered to the feelings of my own heart in every word.  Betray you!  I will die to achieve the object you name.”