ay."

"He is very sick," I answered sadly; "canst thou do nothing for him, oh
Queen! who knowest so much?"

"Of a surety I can. I can cure him; but why speakest thou so sadly? Dost
thou love the youth? Is he perchance thy son?"

"He is my adopted son, oh Queen! Shall he be brought in before thee?"

"Nay. How long hath the fever taken him?"

"This is the third day."

"Good; then let him lie another day. Then will he perchance throw it off
by his own strength, and that is better than that I should cure him,
for my medicine is of a sort to shake the life in its very citadel. If,
however, by to-morrow night, at that hour when the fever first took him,
he doth not begin to mend, then will I come to him and cure him. Stay,
who nurses him?"

"Our white servant, him whom Billali names the Pig; also," and here
I spoke with some little hesitation, "a woman named Ustane, a very
handsome woman of this country, who came and embraced him when she
first saw him, and hath stayed by him ever since, as I understand is the
fashion of thy people, oh Queen."

"My people! speak not to me of my people," she answered hastily; "these
slaves are no people of mine, they are but dogs to do my bidding till
the day of my deliverance comes; and, as for their customs, naught have
I to do with them. Also, call me not Queen--I am weary of flattery and
titles--call me Ayesha, the name hath a sweet sound in mine ears, it is
an echo from the past. As for this Ustane, I know not. I wonder if it
be she against whom I was warned, and whom I in turn did warn? Hath
she--stay, I will see;" and, bending forward, she passed her hand over
the font of water and gazed intently into it. "See," she said quietly,
"is that the woman?"

I looked into the water, and there, mirrored upon its placid surface,
was the silhouette of Ustane's stately face. She was bending forward,
with a look of infinite tenderness upon her features, watching something
beneath her, and with her chestnut locks falling on to her right
shoulder.

"It is she," I said, in a low voice, for once more I felt much disturbed
at this most uncommon sight. "She watches Leo asleep."

"Leo!" said Ayesha, in an absent voice; "why, that is 'lion' in the
Latin tongue. The old man hath named happily for once. It is very
strange," she went on, speaking to herself, "very. So like--but it is
not possible!" With an impatient gesture she passed her hand over
the water once more. It darkened, and the image