But she knew; it was blood, new shed, still wet.
He stood silent, gazing at the stains stupidly. "I did not strike," he muttered to himself, "but I called; or did I strike? I--I----" He threw up his head and his words rushed recklessly in a high shrill voice, "I warned thee! I told thee it was not safe! They were herded like sheep in the sunshine by the cistern, and the smell of blood rose up. It was in my very nostrils, for, look you, that first shot missed them and killed one of my men. I saw it. A round red spot oozing over the white--and they herded like sheep----"
"Who?" she asked faintly.
"I told thee; the prisoners, with the cry to kill above the cries of the children, the flash of blood-dulled swords above women's heads--and I---- Nay! I warned thee, Newâsi, there was butcher here"--his blood-stained hands left their mark on his gay clothes.
"Abool!" she cried, "thou didst not----"
"Did I?" he almost screamed. "God! will it ever leave my sight? I gave the call, I ran in, I drew my sword. It spurted over my hands from a child's throat as I would have struck--or--or--did I strike? Newâsi!" his voice had sunk again almost to a whisper, "it was in its mother's arms,--she did not cry,--she looked and I--I----" he buried his face in his hands--"I came to thee."
She stood looking at him for a moment, her hands clenched, her beautiful soft eyes ablaze; then recklessly she tore the jewels from her arms, her neck, her hair.
"So she has dared! Yea! Come! thou art right, Abool!" The words mixed themselves with the tinkle of bracelets as, flung from her in wild passion, they rolled into the corners of the room, with the chink of necklaces as they fell, with the rustle of brocade and tinsel as she tore them from her. "She has killed them--the helpless fugitives, guests who have eaten the King's salt! She thinks to beguile us all--to beguile thee. But she shall not. It is not too late. Come! Come! Abool--thou shalt have all from me--yea! all, sooner than she should beguile thee thus--Come!"
She had snatched an old white veil from its peg and wrapped it round her, as she passed rapidly to the door; but he did not move. So she passed back again as swiftly to take his hand, stained as it was, and lay her cheek to it caressingly.
"Thou didst not strike, dear, thou didst not! Come, dear, that she-devil shall not have thee--I will hold thee fast."