on's den must not be surprised if he goes
as Harrik went--ah, perhaps you do not know how Harrik went! A man who
tears at the foundations of a house must not be surprised if the timbers
fall on him and on his workmen. It is Destiny that Claridge Pasha should
be the slayer of my brother, and a danger to Egypt, and one whose life
is so dear to you, madame. You would have it otherwise, and so would
I, but we must take things as they are--and you see that letter. It is
seven weeks since then, and it may be that the circle has been broken.
Yet it may not be so. The circle may be smaller, but not broken."

She felt how he was tempting her from word to word with a merciless
ingenuity; yet she kept to her purpose; and however hopeless it seemed,
she would struggle on.

"Excellency," she said in a low, pleading tone, "has he not suffered
enough? Has he not paid the price of that life which you would not bring
back if you could? No, in those places of your mind where no one can see
lies the thought that you would not bring back Foorgat Bey. It is not
an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth that has moved you; it has
not been love of Foorgat Bey; it has been the hatred of the East for
the West. And yet you are a Christian! Has Claridge Pasha not suffered
enough, Excellency? Have you not had your fill of revenge? Have you not
done enough to hurt a man whose only crime was that he killed a man to
save a woman, and had not meant to kill?"

"Yet he says in his letter that the thought of killing would not have
stopped him."

"Does one think at such a moment? Did he think? There was no time. It
was the work of an instant. Ah, Fate was not kind, Excellency! If it
had been, I should have been permitted to kill Foorgat Bey with my own
hands."

"I should have found it hard to exact the penalty from you, madame."

The words were uttered in so neutral a way that they were enigmatical,
and she could not take offence or be sure of his meaning.

"Think, Excellency. Have you ever known one so selfless, so good, so
true? For humanity's sake, would you not keep alive such a man? If there
were a feud as old as Adam between your race and his, would you
not before this life of sacrifice lay down the sword and the bitter
challenge? He gave you his hand in faith and trust, because your God was
his God, your prophet and lord his prophet and lord. Such faith should
melt your heart. Can you not see that he tried to make compensation for
Foorgat's