here. Are there no habitations, no shepherds, at least, on these pasturing grounds?"
"There were," answered the Kurds. "Flahs (Armenians) used to live in these valleys, but the Harkees passed through here a few days ago, and left nothing."
A darker shadow fell upon the traveler's already dark face. Struggling to appear calm and unconcerned, he asked indifferently:—
"Then you were left empty-handed?"
"God is merciful!" returned the Kurds. "Before we reach Bayazid much game will cross our path."
"May God give you success!" said the young man, and turned to resume his journey.
One of the Kurds stopped him, and took some bread and cheese from his saddle-bags. "Eat this; you said you were hungry, and it is a long journey to Bash-Kala."
The young man took the proffered food, expressed his thanks and left the robber band.
Now he could account for the surrounding desolation.
He threw aside the food the Kurd had given him, and went on his way in gloomy thought. Although he had eaten nothing that day or the day before, he was not conscious of hunger. There are times when a man feeds himself by gnawing and consuming his own heart.
III.
The sun was setting when the tired traveler reached a place where the road divided; the path on the right leading to Bash-Kala, that on the left to the monastery of St. Bartholomew. He chose the latter.
Never had the last rays of the sun given more beautiful tints to the floating clouds that lined the horizon than at that twilight hour; and never had the mountain breeze, in its sweetness and purity, been more fresh and invigorating. But the young man saw and felt nothing,—neither the enchanting twilight nor the healthful breeze. Between his heavy heart and the smiling world outside there was no communication.
