new now. They were Oriental, like Zubeydeh's, like those
of the man at the door below, alien, hostile and cruel. And yet it was
curious how the smile in them had disarmed her and she remembered, with
a futile glow of returning hope, that she had not feared him, that she
had even had the temerity to defy him. But her courage had ebbed--she
could not have defied him now and in the darkness while she waited for
Yeva she feared him--feared him.

It seemed strange that Yeva had not returned. She had been gone an hour
or more and the Hotel Europa could not be a great distance away. As the
moments passed she gave up the other hope of persuading the girl, when
she returned, to go back at once to the hotel and reclaim the note,
before Hugh could get it. Could anything have happened to her? Marishka
wanted her--the sound of a voice, the touch of a feminine hand, her airs
and graces--the foibles of a child perhaps, but intensely virile in
their childishness and intensely human. It seemed that even Yeva was to
be denied to her.

For when Zubeydeh brought lights and food the woman made no comment upon
the absence of the girl--a confirmation of Marishka's suspicions that
Zubeydeh was aware of the conspiracy and what was to come of it. But as
Marishka made a pretense of eating what the woman had brought, she
summoned courage to inquire.

"Yeva went out into the city by the passage to the street. She has not
yet returned?"

"I do not know," she said in her heavy colorless voice.

The woman lied. Marishka knew it by the shifting glance of her eye.

"Will you kindly inform His Excellency--I need mention no names--that I
should be very glad if he would meet me at his convenience----"

"Excellency is not here," said the woman.

"Well, when he comes, I should be grateful if you will deliver my
message."

"I will tell him."

Nothing more. Her manner was not discourteous, but her voice was
forbidding. She had been given instructions to keep silence. And just
before leaving the room, a further confirmation of Marishka's conviction
that Yeva was at that very moment in another part of the house, Zubeydeh
gathered up the two pieces of drapery which Marishka had given the girl,
and carried them out of the room.

The hours lengthened while Marishka sat trying to gather the remnants of
her courage to face Captain Goritz when he should come to her. The
Turkish lamp which hung from the ceiling burned dimly, casting grotesque
shadows abou