himself, he would come.
The note! If she could recall it! She would suffer whatever Goritz had
in store for her, if Hugh could only be spared. She had already done him
hurt enough--without the chance of this last most dreadful sacrifice in
her behalf--in vain. He would come to her and she must wait--without the
power to warn him, and perhaps see him killed before her very eyes.

Her thoughts made her desperate--and the idea of another attempt to
escape came into her head. If she could only reach the street, she could
run--and it would be a better race with her pursuer than she had given
Hugh in the rose gardens of the Archduke! She made the attempt, quietly
opening the door by which she had entered the room and passing on
tip-toe down the corridor to the door with the _dutap_. She drew aside
the curtain which covered it and noiselessly turned the knob. As she
peered out she found herself staring straight into the eyes of Zubeydeh.
The woman's look was cold but full of understanding.

"Does the Fraeulein wish anything?" she asked without the slightest
change of expression. Her voice was colorless, like the speech which
might be expected from a graven image.

"I--I was hungry," stammered Marishka helplessly. "I--I am sorry to
bother you."

"If you will return to the room within, I will bring food at once," she
said stolidly. And so Marishka, once more balked in her enterprise, went
back to the Harim. Strong as she was, armed anew with the sudden
strength of desperation, she knew that even if she could use her
strength she was no match for this massive creature who, in the
_selamlik_ nearby, perhaps had men within call. She went to the windows
and peered out into the street. There was no one in sight, except a tall
man in black who carried an umbrella. She watched him a moment through
the carved screen, but he went up the street and disappeared around a
corner. The garden seemed to be deserted. Would the gate to the street
be locked? She made an effort to move the lattice of _meshrebiya_, but
it was nailed fast to the main wood work of the house. Her case was
hopeless. There was nothing to do but wait upon the clemency--the mercy
of Captain Goritz. A new idea of her captor was being born in her, of a
creature who differed from the courteous German official of Vienna and
Agram. His eyes haunted her, the dark eyes set just a little obliquely
in his head, a racial peculiarity which she had not been able to
identify. She k