"You will not, perhaps, deem the implicit
trust reposed in you by one whom you have no interest to deceive, and
who, if deceived, cannot be placed in a worse position than she at
present fills, as a very gratifying mark of confidence, yet that trust
is reposed in you; and let me, at least, soothe the galling dreariness
of my solitary hours, by the recollection of the friends to whom I am
indebted for a deed of friendship which has filled me with a feeling of
wonder from which I have not yet recovered."
"The person who has penetrated the Seraglio of Constantinople in
disguise to rescue the Lady Iduna," answered Iskander, "is the Prince
Nicaeus."
"Nicaeus!" exclaimed Iduna, in an agitated tone. "The voice to which I
listen is surely not that of the Prince Nicaeus; nor the form on which I
gaze," she added, as she unveiled. Beside her stood the tall figure of
the Armenian physician. She beheld his swarthy and unrecognised
countenance. She cast her dark eyes around with an air of beautiful
perplexity.
"I am a friend of the Prince Nicaeus," said the physician.
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