"What a wicked soul!" whispered Lykon. "But Thou pleasest me. We will pay them both in kingly fashion."
He withdrew to the window and vanished. Kama leaned out after him, and forgetting every other thing, listened in a fever.
Perhaps a quarter of an hour after the departure of Lykon, at the side of the fig grove rose the piercing shriek of a woman. It was repeated a couple of times, and then ceased.
Instead of the expected delight, terror seized Kama. She fell on her knees, and gazed into the dark garden with a wandering stare.
Below was heard almost noiseless running; there was a squeak at the pillar in the antechamber, and in the window appeared Lykon again in a dark mantle. He was panting with violence, and his hands trembled.
"Where are thy jewels?" whispered he.
"Let me alone," replied she.
The Greek seized her by the shoulder.
"Wretch! Dost Thou not understand that before sunrise they will imprison thee, and will strangle thee a couple of days later?"
"I am sick."