text:  I recall each lovely feature each attitude of your exquisite person--that little foot the seal of love that bosom the gem of bliss! The remembrance of your voice makes my soul thrill like the chord of an instrument--ready to burst from the clearness of its tone--and your kiss! that kiss in which I drank your soul! It showers roses and coals of fire upon my lonely bed--I burn--my hot lips are tortured by the thirst for caresses--my hand longs to clasp your waist--to touch your knees! Oh come--Oh fly to me--that I may die in delight as now I do in weariness! * * * * * Colonel Verkhoffsky endeavouring by every possible means to divert Ammalat's grief thought of amusing him with a boar-hunt the favourite occupation of the Beks of Daghestan