V.

A trumpet sounded. “’Tis the summons--hark,” Quoth William. Blanca straight grew lily-pale. He kist her thrice, then leapt from out the bark. “Fear not,” he said. “To-morrow without fail “We meet,” then flew with heart unused to quail. But Blanca motionless remained behind, Like calmed Feluca which the dying gale Hath quite forsook. Oh, Love had tamed her mind, And pride and patriot thoughts _for him_ were idle wind!