"I have two of them," he said, "and they will both be yours, if you will do me a service."
"What is it?" she asked.
"They will be yours, if you will give this quill to the little white girl, who is in the zenana."
The woman hesitated.
"It is dangerous," she said.
"Not at all," Hossein replied. "It only gives her news of a friend, whom she thought was dead. It will cheer her heart, and will be a kind action. None can ever know it."
"Give them to me," the woman said, holding out her hand. "I will do it."
"No," Hossein replied. "I will give you one now, the other when I know that the note is delivered. I shall be watching, tomorrow. If she places her handkerchief in her lattice, I shall know that she has got it. When she does this, I will bury the other bracelet, a few inches in the ground, just under that window. You can dig it up when you will."
"I understand," the woman said. "You can trust me. We all like the white girl. She is very gentle, but very sad. I would gladly give her pleasure."
Hossein handed to her the bracelet, and the quill. She hid them in her dress, and sauntered away.