But Unorna did not raise
her head nor look at him, and on the carpet near her feet Israel Kafka
lay as still and as deeply unconscious as the Wanderer himself. By a
strange destiny she sat there, between the two men in whom her whole
life had been wrecked, and she alone was waking.

When she at last raised her eyes the dawn was breaking. Through the
transparent roof of glass a cold gray light began to descend upon the
warm, still brightness of the lamps. The shadows changed, the colours
grew more cold, the dark nooks among the heavy foliage less black.
Israel Kafka's face was ghostly and livid--the Wanderer's had the
alabaster transparency that comes upon some strong men in sleep. Still,
neither stirred. Unorna turned from the one and looked upon the other.
For the first time she saw how he had changed, and wondered.

"How peacefully he sleeps!" she thought. "He is dreaming of her."

The dawn came stealing on, not soft and blushing as in southern lands,
but cold, resistless and grim as ancient fate; not the maiden herald of
the sun with rose-tipped fingers and grey, liquid eyes, but hard, cruel,
sullen, and less darkness following upon a greater and going before a
dull, sunless and heavy day.

The door opened somewhat noisily and a brisk step fell upon the marble
pavement. Unorna rose noiselessly to her feet and hastening along the
open space came face to face with Keyork Arabian. He stopped and looked
up at her from beneath his heavy brows, with surprise and suspicion. She
raised one finger to her lips.

"You here already?" he asked, obeying her gesture and speaking in a low
voice.

"Hush! Hush!" she whispered, not satisfied. "They are asleep. You will
wake them."

Keyork came forward. He could move quietly enough when he chose. He
glanced at the Wanderer.

"He looks comfortable enough," he whispered, half contemptuously.

Then he bent down over Israel Kafka and carefully examined his face. To
him the ghastly pallor meant nothing. It was but the natural result of
excessive exhaustion.

"Put him into a lethargy," said he under his breath, but with authority
in his manner.

Unorna shook her head. Keyork's small eyes brightened angrily.

"Do it," he said. "What is this caprice? Are you mad? I want to take his
temperature without waking him."

Unorna folded her arms.

"Do you want him to suffer more?" asked Keyork with a diabolical smile.
"If so I will wake him by all means; I am always at your service, y