“They are not; Mindoo is old. Ah bah! thirty years old! he lacks one finger; he has a hideous mark on his cheek, whilst you——” she paused and smiled in his face expressively and said, “Oh, Kareem, what an owl you are! And now shall I tell you what ails you?”
“Yes, if you can,” he answered with an incredulous laugh.
“You have found out what was written in the little scroll.”
Kareem started perceptibly.
“Yes, I see it is true,” and here she made a wild shot. “I’ll wager my gold nose-ring, that it relates to money.”
Kareem grew very pale, and cast down his eyes.
“To a treasure: look at me, Kareem.”
He looked, impelled by the influence of her eyes, looked and was lost—his face told everything.
“Pera,” he exclaimed tremulously, “you are a witch.”
“Kareem,” she rejoined, leaning her cool smooth cheek against his (truly she was a bold, forward minx), “you are an owl; you always were an owl. Once you had no secrets from me.—Now begin and tell me all about it.”