ng his bag of
snakes, and stood still before Mrs. Armine. For the first time he fixed
his cunning and ferocious eyes, which were suffused with blood, steadily
upon her, as if he desired to hypnotize her, or to inspire her with
deadly fear. She returned his gaze steadily and calmly, and held out her
hand towards the bag, indicating by a gesture that she wished to handle
the serpents. The darweesh, still staring at her, and very slowly, put
the bag close to her, holding it under her breast. A curious musty
smell, like the scent of something terribly old, came to her nostrils.
She hesitated for a moment, then deliberately pulled off her gloves, put
them on the divan, stood up, and plunged her right hand into the bag, at
the same time shutting her eyes. She shut them to enjoy with the utmost
keenness a sensation entirely new.

Her hand encountered a dry and writhing life, closed upon it firmly but
gently, drew it out and towards her. Then she opened her eyes, and saw
that she had taken from the dark a serpent that was black with markings
of a dull orange colour. It twisted itself in her hand, as if trying to
escape, but as she held it firmly it presently became quieter, lifted
itself, reared up its flat head, and seemed to regard her with its
feverish and guilty eyes, which were like the eyes of something
consciously criminal that must always be unrepentant. She looked at
those eyes, and she felt a strong sympathy for the creature, and no
sense of fear at all. Slowly she brought it nearer to her, nearer,
nearer, till it wavered out from her hand and attained her body.

The darweesh always stood before her, but the expression in his eyes had
changed, was no longer hypnotic and terrible, but rather deeply
observant. Baroudi sat quite still upon the divan. He looked from Mrs.
Armine to the serpent, then looked again at her. And she, feeling these
two men absolutely concentrated upon her, was happy and at ease. Swiftly
the serpent wound itself about her, and, clinging to her waist, thrust
forth the upper part of its body towards the darweesh, shooting out its
ribbon of a tongue, which quivered like something frail in a draught of
wind. It lowered and raised itself several times, rhythmically, as if in
an effort to obey the whining music and to indulge in a dancing
movement. Then, as a long shrill note was held, it again reared itself
up, till its head was level with Mrs. Armine's ear, and remained there
quivering, and turning