All that day, Heli persevered in an unusual silence. Not that indolent taciturnity natural to the Turks, but a thoughtful gloom seemed to hang upon him, as if revolving, in his mind, some affair of importance.
Ferdinand observed and trembled.—"Some event, productive, I fear, of no good to me, is in contemplation." He passed a night of painful inquietude. The following morning afforded no relief to his anxiety. Heli did not appear at the usual hour.—The noon came, but no Heli. Unable any longer to restrain his impatience, when the slave attended with his coffee—"Is not the governor well?" demanded he.
The man bowed his head, put his finger to his lips, and withdrew. The day passed heavily: He endeavoured to recollect if he had given any offence to Heli; his memory charged him with no fault or imprudence in their several conversations. To what then was owing this sudden and unaccountable revolution in his behaviour?
