her soft lips set with desperate decision,
her eyes turned on her counselor a look of flashing spirit. She was
like some young wild thing at bay, harried, defiant, tensely
defensive. Something of the pathos of her innocent presence there,
in that evil palace, utterly alone, hopelessly defiant, penetrated
for an instant the callous acceptances of the little dancer and her
eyes softened with facile sympathy, but the impression dulled, and
she only nodded her head encouragingly.

"Good! That is the way! Women can always act!" she murmured,
slipping off the divan and drawing her fluttering robes about her.
"But it is very late and I must go--it is not safe to stay so."

"Where is your room? Could I get to you?"

"No--for you cannot open that panel on the inside--unless you can
steal the key from him as I could not! My room--for this present,
little one," and her eyes laughed suddenly in challenge, "is up on
the top--a little old room all alone. My doors are locked, but there
is a panel in my room, too, a panel at the top of tiny stairs, and
the lock on that panel is so old and rusty that a knife make it
open. So I pushed it open and came down the tiny stairs that end out
there in the passage way, and I opened your panel. Now I must steal
back, but I shall come again, and we must plan."

"But where does this secret passage go?" Arlee had followed over the
bed, and held aside the heavy draperies while the little Baroff was
pushing the panel softly and carefully open. Eagerly Arlee peered
out into the darkness beyond. "Where does it go?" she repeated.

"It runs above the hall of banquets and into the _selamlik_,"
whispered the Viennese. "It opens into Hamdi's rooms, he says, and I
know that a servant sleeps always at his door and another is at the
foot of the stairs. So it would be madness to try that way."

But Arlee stared thoughtfully into the secret place. "I am glad I
know," she said.

"Well, good-by, little one." The Viennese was standing outside now,
softly closing the door. For a moment her face remained in the
opening. "You will not tell Hamdi that I came--no?" she demanded
sharply, and then on Arlee's quick reassurance she nodded, whispered
good-by again, and drew back her little face.

The wall rolled into place and a gentle click told of the caught
lock. The curtains fell back over the wall. And Arlee was left
huddling there alone, feeling that it had all been a dream, but for
the heavy scent that lingere