t the room, flickering in patches of tawdry light upon the
gilt of the embroidered hangings, and touching the blades of the ancient
weapons which decorated the wall about the couch, scimitars, swords,
daggers and spears! Marishka got up and examined them more closely,
curiously, as though she had not seen them before. She shuddered a
little as she plucked from its sheath a small dagger with a bronzed
handle, and found that its blade was very sharp and bright. She reached
up to put it back, but as she did so there was a sound from the room
beyond the passage, and a knock upon the door. So she slipped the weapon
into the waistband of her skirt, beneath her blouse, and went to her
seat among the pillows. In a moment the knock was repeated, and in reply
to her call, the door opened and she heard footsteps along the corridor.

The man who entered was tall and slender, with a hooked nose, heavy
brows, and a beard streaked with white. He wore the turban and bright
green belt which denoted the Moslem, and the fingers with which he
touched brow, lips, and heart in salutation were covered with rings.

"_Salaem 'alaikum_," he muttered, bowing.

Marishka knew no reply to this and made none, waiting in some
trepidation for him to proceed. He was a villainous looking creature,
but comported himself with an air of some dignity. In a moment he spoke
again in excellent German.

"I hope that Excellency has been able to make herself quite comfortable
in my poor house."

As he spoke, Marishka remembered that this was one of the voices of her
dreams, the gruff voice which talked with Goritz.

Something was required of her in reply, and so, with an effort,

"Yeva has been very kind, Effendi," she managed.

"Yes. Allah has been good to me. Yeva has a heart of gold."

"You are the Beg of Rataj?" Marishka asked.

He salaamed again.

"Will you tell me, then, what has become of Herr Hauptmann Goritz?"

The man's face wore a sudden crafty look of incomprehension.

"Goritz, Excellency?" he asked coolly. "There is no one of that name in
my acquaintance."

Marishka accepted the rebuke and ventured timidly, "I mean, the--the
Excellency--who brought me here----"

"Ah! Lieutenant von Arnstorf! He has gone, I think, upon a journey,"
said the Beg.

Marishka was silent a moment, thinking.

"That is strange. It is very necessary that I should see him."

The man smiled up at the lamp above his head, revealing a void where
teeth should h