'Is it the ever-faithful Karaguus,' said Astarte; 'or is it Ruby-lips
that ever brings good news?'
'It is Karaguus,' said Cypros, as the bird drew nearer and nearer; 'but
it is not Karaguus of Damascus. By the ring on its neck, it is Karaguus
of Aleppo.'
The pigeon now was only a few yards above the head of the Queen.
Fatigued, but with an eye full of resolution, it fluttered for a moment,
and then fell upon her bosom. Cypros advanced and lifted its weary wing,
and untied the cartel which it bore, brief words, but full of meaning,
and a terrible interest.
'The Pasha, at the head of five thousand regular troops, leaves Haleb
to-morrow to invade our land.'
'Go,' said Astarte to Tancred; 'to remain here is now dangerous. Thanks
to the faithful messenger, you have time to escape with ease from that
land which you scorned to rule, and which loved you too well.'
'I cannot leave it in the hour of peril,' said Tancred. 'This invasion
of the Ottomans may lead to results of which none dream. I will meet
them at the head of your warriors!'
CHAPTER LVIII.
_Three Letters of Cabala_
IS THERE any news?' asked Adam Besso of Issachar, the son of Selim, the
most cunning leech at Aleppo, and who by day and by night watched the
couch which bore the suffering form of the pride and mainstay of the
Syrian Hebrews.
Pages:
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675