"You say you like Paul. Do you think he would make a good husband?"
"Yes, I really believe he would," I replied. "But do not take him on my recommendation. You must know him better yourself. You will meet many people here who know him, and some who know him well."
"What do you think of that story about his brother?" asked John, looking at me very earnestly.
"I believe he is as innocent as you or I. But we are getting near the truth, and have made some valuable discoveries."
I explained to Carvel what we had found, and without mentioning the name of Laleli Khanum I told him how far we had traced the mystery, and he listened with profound interest to my account.
"I hope you may find him alive," he said, as we rose from the table. "For my part, I do not believe we shall ever see him. Paul was alone with his mother this afternoon, and I dare say he told her what you have told me. She does not seem to object to the subject, though of course we generally avoid it."
I stayed an hour longer with the party, during which time Paul talked a great deal to Hermione, occasionally joining in the general conversation, and certainly not trying to prevent what he said to the young girl from being heard. At last I took my leave and went home, for I was anxious to see Gregorios, and to hear from him what plan he proposed to adopt for the solution of our difficulties at this critical moment. I found him waiting for me.
"Have you made up your mind?" I asked.
Balsamides was sitting beside his table with a book. He looked even paler than usual, and was evidently more excited than he liked to own. He is eminently a man who loves danger, and his nature never warms so genially as when something desperate is to be done. A Christian by race and belief, he has absorbed much of the fatalism of the Oriental races, and his courage is of the fatalist kind, reckless and devoted.
"Yes," he answered. "I have made up my mind. One must either be the camel or the camel-driver. One must either submit to the course of events, or do something to violently change their direction. If we submit much longer, we shall lose the game. The old woman will die,—the Turkish women always die when they are ill; and if she is once dead without confessing, we may give up all hope."