that overtopped the
green of that fragrant place.

He was a tall, gaunt man, stooping slightly at the shoulders under
the burden of his years; but his eagle face was masterful, and
some lingering embers of his youth still glowed in his dark eyes.
Thoughtfully, with a jewelled hand, he stroked his long white beard;
with the other he leaned upon her soft plump arm, more from habit than
for support, for he was full vigorous still.

High in the blue overhead a lark burst suddenly into song, and from
the depths of the orchard came a gentle murmur of doves as if returning
thanks for the lessening of the great heat now that the sun was sinking
rapidly towards the world's edge and the shadows were lengthening.

Came Fenzileh's voice again, more musical than either, yet laden with
words of evil, poison wrapped in honey.

"O my dear lord, thou'rt angered with me now. Woe me! that never may I
counsel thee for thine own glory as my heart prompts me, but I must earn
thy coldness."

"Abuse not him I love," said the Basha shortly. "I have told thee so full
oft already."

She nestled closer to him, and her voice grew softer, more akin to the
amorous cooing of the doves. "And do I not love thee, O master of my
soul? Is there in all the world a heart more faithful to thee than
mine? Is not thy life my life? Have not my days been all devoted to the
perfecting of thine happiness? And wilt thou then frown upon me if I
fear for thee at the hands of an intruder of yesterday?"

"Fear for me?" he echoed, and laughed jeeringly. "What shouldst thou
fear for me from Sakr-el-Bahr?"

"What all believers must ever fear from one who is no true Muslim, from
one who makes a mock and travesty of the True Faith that he may gain
advancement."

The Basha checked in his stride, and turned upon her angrily.

"May thy tongue rot, thou mother of lies!"

"I am as the dust beneath thy feet, O my sweet lord, yet am I not what
thine heedless anger calls me."

"Heedless?" quoth he. "Not heedless but righteous to hear one whom the
Prophet guards, who is the very javelin of Islam against the breast of
the unbeliever, who carries the scourge of Allah against the infidel
Frankish pigs, so maligned by thee! No more, I say! Lest I bid thee make
good thy words, and pay the liar's price if thou shouldst fail."

"And should I fear the test?" she countered, nothing daunted. "I tell
thee, O father of Marzak, that I should hail it gladly. Why, hear me
now. Tho