ultry under the silence of the night,
Rustem following with the child.

The giant's good heart was devoted to Mary, and he often passed his huge
hand over his eyes while she told him all that the scene they had
witnessed meant, and the fearful end that threatened Paula. He broke in
now and again, giving utterance to his grief and wrath in strange,
natural sounds; for he looked up to his beautiful sick nurse as to a
superior being, and Mandane, too, had often remarked that they could
never forget all that the noble maiden had done for them.

"If only," Rustem cried at length, clenching his powerful fist, "If only
I could--they should see. . . ." and the child looked up with shrewd,
imploring eyes, exclaiming eagerly:

"But you could, Rustem, you could!"

"I?" asked Rustem in surprise, and he shook his head doubtfully.

"Yes, you, Rustem; you of all men. We were talking over something in the
prison, and if only you were ready and willing to help us in the matter."

"Willing!" laughed the worthy fellow striking his heart; and he went on
in his strangely-broken Greek, which was, however, quite intelligible: "I
would give hair and skin for the noble lady. You have only to speak out."

The child clung to the big man with both hands and drew him to her
saying: "We knew you had a grate ful heart. But you see. . ." and she
interrupted herself to ask in an altered voice:

"Do you believe in a God? or stay--do you know what a sacred oath is? Can
you swear solemnly? Yes, yes . . ." and drawing herself up as tall as
possible she went on very seriously: "Swear by your bride Mandane--as
truly as you believe that she loves you. . . ."

"But, sweet soul. . . . "

"Swear that you will never betray to a living soul what I am going to
say--not even to Mother Joanna and Pulcheria; no, nor even to your
Mandane, unless you find you cannot help it and she gives her sacred
word. . . . "

"What is it? You quite frighten me! What am I to swear?"

"Not to reveal what I am now going to tell you."

"Yes, yes, little Mistress; I can promise you that." Mary sighed, a
long-drawn "Ah . . . !" and told him that a trustworthy messenger must be
found to go forth to meet Amru, so as to be in time to save Paula. Then
came the question whether he knew the road over the hills from Babylon to
the ancient town of Berenice; and when he replied that he had lately
travelled that way, and that it was the shortest road to the sea for
Djidda and Medina,