y yet weather the tempest that darkens around
us. But what we do must be hastily done."

In another apartment he found the person he sought--the same who visited
the Duke of Buckingham's harem, and, having relieved Alice Bridgenorth
from her confinement there, had occupied her place as has been already
narrated, or rather intimated. She was now much more plainly attired
than when she had tantalised the Duke with her presence; but her dress
had still something of the Oriental character, which corresponded with
the dark complexion and quick eye of the wearer. She had the kerchief at
her eyes as Christian entered the apartment, but suddenly withdrew it,
and, flashing on him a glance of scorn and indignation, asked him what
he meant by intruding where his company was alike unsought for and
undesired.

"A proper question," said Christian, "from a slave to her master!"

"Rather, say, a proper question, and of all questions the most proper,
from a mistress to her slave! Know you not, that from the hour in which
you discovered your ineffable baseness, you have made me mistress of
your lot? While you seemed but a demon of vengeance, you commanded
terror, and to good purpose; but such a foul fiend as thou hast of late
shown thyself--such a very worthless, base trickster of the devil--such
a sordid grovelling imp of perdition, can gain nothing but scorn from a
soul like mine."

"Gallantly mouthed," said Christian, "and with good emphasis."

"Yes," answered Zarah, "I can speak--sometimes--I can also be mute; and
that no one knows better than thou."

"Thou art a spoiled child, Zarah, and dost but abuse the indulgence I
entertain for your freakish humour," replied Christian; "thy wits have
been disturbed since ever you landed in England, and all for the sake
of one who cares for thee no more than for the most worthless object who
walks the streets, amongst whom he left you to engage in a brawl for one
he loved better."

"It is no matter," said Zarah, obviously repressing very bitter emotion;
"it signifies not that he loves another better; there is none--no,
none--that ever did, or can, love him so well."

"I pity you, Zarah!" said Christian, with some scorn.

"I deserve your pity," she replied, "were your pity worth my accepting.
Whom have I to thank for my wretchedness but you?--You bred me up in
thirst of vengeance, ere I knew that good and evil were anything better
than names;--to gain your applause, and to gratify the v