it till I came to the
second sharp turn to the right, that of the gallery from which rose
the stairs. I crept round it only to retreat hastily enough, as well
I might, for at the door of Leo's room, which she was in the act of
locking on the outside, as I could see by the light of the lamp that she
held in her hand, stood the Khania herself.

My first thought was to fly back to my own chamber, but I abandoned
it, feeling sure that I should be seen. Therefore I determined, if she
discovered me, to face the matter out and say that I was trying to find
Leo, and to learn how he fared. So I crouched against the wall, and
waited with a beating heart. I heard her sweep down the passage,
and--yes--begin to mount the stair.

Now, what should I do? To try to reach Leo was useless, for she had
locked the door with the key she held. Go back to bed? No, I would
follow her, and if we met would make the same excuse. Thus I might get
some tidings, or perhaps--a dagger thrust.

So round the corner and up the steps I went, noiselessly as a snake.
They were many and winding, like those of a church tower, but at length
I came to the head of them, where was a little landing, and opening from
it a door. It was a very ancient door; the light streamed through cracks
where its panels had rotted, and from the room beyond came the sound of
voices, those of the Shaman Simbri and the Khania.

"Have you learned aught, my niece?" I heard him say, and also heard her
answer---"A little. A very little."

Then in my thirst for knowledge I grew bold, and stealing to the door,
looked through one of the cracks in its wood. Opposite to me, in the
full flood of light thrown by a hanging lamp, her hand resting on a
table at which Simbri was seated, stood the Khania. Truly she was a
beauteous sight, for she wore robes of royal purple, and on her brow a
little coronet of gold, beneath which her curling hair streamed down
her shapely neck and bosom. Seeing her I guessed at once that she had
arrayed herself thus for some secret end, enhancing her loveliness by
every art and grace that is known to woman. Simbri was looking at her
earnestly, with fear and doubt written on even his cold, impassive
features.

"What passed between you, then?" he asked, peering at her.

"I questioned him closely as to the reason of his coming to this
land, and wrung from him the answer that it was to seek some beauteous
woman--he would say no more. I asked him if she were more