it, oblivion mastered me. After this I became aware that the
regal-looking woman called Khania, was always in the room, and that she
seemed to be nursing Leo with great care and tenderness. Sometimes even
she nursed me when Leo did not need attention, and she had nothing else
to do, or so her manner seemed to suggest. It was as though I excited
her curiosity, and she wished me to recover that it might be satisfied.

Again I awoke, how long afterwards I cannot say. It was night, and
the room was lighted by the moon only, now shining in a clear sky. Its
steady rays entering at the window-place fell on Leo's bed, and by them
I saw that the dark, imperial woman was watching at his side. Some sense
of her presence must have communicated itself to him, for he began to
mutter in his sleep, now in English, now in Arabic. She became intensely
interested; as her every movement showed. Then rising suddenly she
glided across the room on tiptoe to look at me. Seeing her coming I
feigned to be asleep, and so well that she was deceived.

For I was also interested. Who was this lady whom the Guardian had
called the Khania of Kaloon? Could it be she whom we sought? Why not?
And yet if I saw Ayesha, surely I should know her, surely there would be
no room for doubt.

Back she went again to the bed, kneeling down beside Leo, and in the
intense silence which followed--for he had ceased his mutterings--I
thought that I could hear the beating of her heart. Now she began to
speak, very low and in that same bastard Greek tongue, mixed here and
there with Mongolian words such as are common to the dialects of Central
Asia. I could not hear or understand all she said, but some sentences I
did understand, and they frightened me not a little.

"Man of my dreams," she murmured, "whence come you? Who are you? Why did
the Hesea bid me to meet you?" Then some sentences I could not catch.
"You sleep; in sleep the eyes are opened. Answer, I bid you; say what
is the bond between you and me? Why have I dreamt of you? Why do I know
you? Why----?" and the sweet, rich voice died slowly from a whisper into
silence, as though she were ashamed to utter what was on her tongue.

As she bent over him a lock of her hair broke loose from its jewelled
fillet and fell across his face. At its touch Leo seemed to wake, for
he lifted his gaunt, white hand and touched the hair, then said in
English--"Where am I? Oh! I remember;" and their eyes met as he strove
to lift h