ter
some moments' silence, the son of Radja-sing said suddenly to Faringhea,
in the tone of an impatient yet indolent sultan: "Speak to me!"

"Of what shall I speak, my lord?"

"Of what you will," said Djalma, with careless contempt, as he fixed
on the ceiling his eyes, half-veiled with languor. "One thought pursues
me--I wish to be diverted from it. Speak to me."

Faringhea threw a piercing glance on the countenance of the young
Indian, and saw that his cheeks were colored with a slight blush. "My
lord," said the half-caste, "I can guess your thought."

Djalma shook his head, without looking at the Strangler. The latter
resumed: "You are thinking of the women of Paris, my lord."

"Be silent, slave!" said Djalma, turning abruptly on the sofa, as if
some painful wound had been touched to the quick. Faringhea obeyed.

After the lapse of some moments. Djalma broke forth again with
impatience, throwing aside the tube of the hookah, and veiling both
eyes with his hands: "Your words are better than silence. Cursed be my
thoughts, and the spirit which calls up these phantoms!"

"Why should you fly these thoughts, my lord? You are nineteen years of
age, and hitherto all your youth has been spent in war and captivity.
Up to this time, you have remained as chaste as Gabriel, that young
Christian priest, who accompanied us on our voyage."

Though Faringhea did not at all depart from his respectful deference
for the prince, the latter felt that there was something of irony in the
tone of the half-caste, as he pronounced the word "chaste."

Djalma said to him with a mixture of pride and severity: "I do not wish
to pass for a barbarian, as they call us, with these civilized people;
therefore I glory in my chastity."

"I do not understand, my lord."

"I may perhaps love some woman, pure as was my mother when she married
my father; and to ask for purity from a woman, a man must be chaste as
she."

At this, Faringhea could not refrain from a sardonic smile.

"Why do you laugh, slave?" said the young prince, imperiously.

"Among civilized people, as you call them, my lord, the man who married
in the flower of his innocence would be mortally wounded with ridicule."

"It is false, slave! He would only be ridiculous if he married one that
was not pure as himself."

"Then, my lord, he would not only be wounded--he would be killed
outright, for he would be doubly and unmercifully laughed at."

"It is false! it is false. Wh