the Wanderer could not believe that
it was in her power to destroy the memory of the great passion through
which she pretended that he himself had passed. He smiled at the idea,
for he had always trusted his own senses and his own memory. Unorna's
own mind was clearly wandering, or else she had invented the story,
supposing him credulous enough to believe it. In either case it did not
deserve a moment's consideration except as showing to what lengths her
foolish and ill-bestowed love could lead her.

Meanwhile she was in danger. She had aroused the violent and deadly
resentment of Israel Kafka, a man who, if not positively insane, as
Keyork Arabian had hinted, was by no means in a normal state of mind or
body, a man beside himself with love and anger, and absolutely
reckless of life for the time being, a man who, for the security of all
concerned, must be at least temporarily confined in a place of safety,
until a proper treatment and the lapse of a certain length of time
should bring him to his senses. For the present, he was wholly
untractable, being at the mercy of the most uncontrolled passions and of
one of those intermittent phases of blind fatalism to which the Semitic
races are peculiarly subject.

There were two reasons which determined the Wanderer to turn to Keyork
Arabian for assistance, besides his wish to see the bad business end
quickly and without publicity. Keyork, so far as the Wanderer was aware,
was himself treating Israel Kafka's case, and would therefore know what
to do, if any one knew at all. Secondly, it was clear from the message
which Unorna had left with the porter of her own house that she expected
Keyork to come at any moment. He was then in immediate danger of being
brought face to face with Israel Kafka without having received the least
warning of his present condition, and it was impossible to say what the
infuriated youth might do at such a moment. He had been shut up, caught
in his own trap, as it were, for some time, and his anger and madness
might reasonably be supposed to have been aggravated rather than cooled
by his unexpected confinement. It was as likely as not that he would use
the weapon he carried upon the first person with whom he found himself
face to face, especially if that person made any attempt to overpower
and disarm him.

The Wanderer drove to Keyork Arabian's house, and leaving his carriage
to wait in case of need, ascended the stairs and knocked at the door.
For