The maiden looked fixedly at the young soldier, and seemed considering with what words to address him, while he, after his long search and now unexpected success, was equally at a loss. At last she said in Spanish, “Thou wonderful enigma, I have been witness of all that has passed between thee and the Arab; and these affairs confuse my head like a whirlwind. Speak, therefore, plainly, that I may know whether thou art a madman or an angel?”

“I am neither, dear lady,” replied Heimbert, with his wonted friendliness. “I am only a poor wanderer, who has just been putting into practice one of the commands of his Master, Jesus Christ.”

“Sit down,” said Zelinda, “and tell me of thy Master; he must be himself unprecedented to have such a servant. The night is cool and still, and at my side thou hast no cause to fear the dangers of the desert.”

“Lady,” replied Heimbert, smiling, “I am not of a fearful nature, and when I am speaking of my dear Saviour my mind is perfectly free from all alarm.”

Thus saying, they both sat down on the now cooled sand and began a wondrous conversation, while the full moon shone upon them from the deep-blue heavens above like a magic lamp.

Heimbert’s words, full of divine love, truth, and simplicity sank like soft sunbeams, gently and surely, into Zelinda’s, heart, driving away the mysterious magic power which dwelt there, and wrestling for the dominion of the noble territory of her soul. When morning began to dawn she said, “Thou wouldst not be called an angel last evening, but thou art truly one. For what else are angels than messengers of the Most High God?” “In that sense,” rejoined Heimbert, “I am well satisfied with the name, for I certainly hope that I am the bearer of my Master’s message. Yes, if he bestows on me further grace and strength, it may even be that you also may become my companion in the pious work.” “It is not impossible,” said Zelinda thoughtfully. “Thou must, however, come with me to my island, and there thou shalt be regaled as is befitting such an ambassador, far better than here on the desolate sand, with the miserable palm-wine that thou hast so laboriously obtained.”

“Pardon me,” replied Heimbert; “it is difficult to me to refuse the request of a lady, but on this occasion it cannot be otherwise. In your island many glorious things have been conjured together by your forbidden art, and many lovely forms which the good God has created have been transformed. These might dazzle my senses, and at last delude them. If you will, therefore, hear the best and purest things which I can relate to you, you must rather come out to me on this desert sand. The palm-wine and the dates of the Arab will suffice for me for many a day to come.” “You would do better to come with me,” said Zelinda, shaking her head with somewhat of a scornful smile. “You were certainly neither born nor brought up to be a hermit, and there is nothing on my oasis so destructive as you imagine. What is there more than shrubs and flowers and beasts gathered together from different quarters of the world, perhaps a little strangely interwoven; each, that is to say, partaking of the nature of the other, in a similar manner to that which you must have seen in our Arabian carving! A moving flower, a bird growing on a branch, a fountain gleaming with fiery sparks, a singing twig—these are truly no hateful things!” “He must avoid temptation who does not wish to be overcome by it,” said Heimbert very gravely; “I am for the desert. Will it please you to come out to visit me again?” Zelinda looked down somewhat displeased. Then suddenly bending her head still lower she replied, “Yes; toward evening I shall be here again.” And, turning away, she at once disappeared in the rising whirlwind of the desert.