A rustle in the alley made her peer through the fret-work, for the veriest trifle swayed her; but it was only a dog seeking garbage in the gutter. Then a door creaked and she started, wondering if Ahmed Ali could be home already. Silence brought her a dim suspicion that, but for this wisdom of hers, she might have waited his return calmly enough. Footsteps now! She cowered to the shadow at the sight of Kareema followed by Mytâb bearing something.
"He mayn't be back till late," came the familiar giggle; "and a soft pillow will please him."
The pair were back again before she recovered her surprise, and Kareema paused ere re-entering the women's door. "Poor Feroza! She will get accustomed to it, I suppose."
"Of what hath she to complain?" retorted the old voice; "he is a properer man than I deemed. Say, heart's desire, what said he when I saw thee--?"
"Mytâb! thou mean spy! Bah! he told me he would change a letter and call me Carina, since it meant dearest in some heathen tongue. They begin thus over the black water likely; 'tis not bad, and new at any rate."
Feroza scarcely waited for distance to deaden the answering giggle. She was on her feet, pacing to and fro like a mad creature. Ah! to get away from it all--from that name, from the look he must have given--to get something cold and still to quench the raging fire in her veins! Suddenly, without a waver, she walked to the well and leant over its low parapet. Her hands sought the cool damp stones, her eyes rested themselves on the faint glimmer far down--ever, oh, ever so far away! Hark! some one in the alley. If it were he? Ah! then she must go away, ever so far away--
Meer Ahmed Ali found his pillow comfortable, and only woke in the dawn to see Mytâb standing beside him.
"Feroza!" she cried. "Where is Feroza?"
A dull remorse came to his drowsy brain. "It was so late--I--"
"Holy Prophet, she is not here! Thou hast not seen her! Then she hath gone to the Missen to be baptised. Why didst turn her brain with books? Fool! Idiot!"