She awoke to realities at the duenna's voice, but with a new element in her outlook on the future--a palpitating horror at the thought of the sacrifice she had faced calmly but an hour ago.
"He--he is welcome," she said faintly. There was no use shirking, and she might be able to put him off till after one.
But his first words told her theirs was a fight for life in the present.
"All in the dark!" he said lightly, "so much the better mayhap, mistress, for Ibrahîm's peace of mind, seeing that he hath but a few hours to count his own. The jackal hath to eat his bones betimes."
"What meanest my lord?" she asked hurriedly.
"That his Majesty the King will feast on the flesh," he replied recklessly. "Ah I have heard He hath been here this last half-hour. In troth, but that he interferes with my quarry, I would say thank God the anchorite hath found his meat. As it is, I have come earlier to handsel my share." Then he turned swiftly to the duenna. "Leave us for a while. I would speak alone with this lady."
When she had gone he said curtly. "Thou hadst best sit down. I have much to say."
"Say on," replied Âtma laconically, as without the faintest sign of trepidation she sate herself calmly down amid the silken carpets and cushions; for behind her propped against the marble pilasters, were the hauberk, the sword of her fathers, to give her courage. It was the Mirza who showed uneasiness. He walked up and down as if uncertain how to begin.
"Well," she asked with a scornful smile as she played idly with the pens in the open pen-box, "what hast thou to say?"
He cast aside doubt at her words, flung himself on the steps, and leaning forward peered through the dusk into her eyes. "What thou wilt not care to hear; so brace thyself--if thou canst, woman! Thou didst send by Deena----"