And he passed the woman with another phrase, and was gone.
Zubeydeh and Marishka stood facing each other, the elder woman in sullen antipathy, illy concealed by the habitual mask of imperturbability. Marishka had disliked her from the first, actuated by that rare instinct which only women can employ, and now there seemed something ominous in her stolid ugliness. Marishka had not fully understood the instructions of the Beg, and not until Zubeydeh picked up her suitcase and carried it down the corridor, did she realize that she was merely carrying out the orders of her master. But Marishka did not move. Before her eyes danced the words of her earlier note to Hugh, which asked him to come to her by the private passage to the court below. If the Effendi did not succeed in finding him, he would come; and she would not be there to meet him. Instead of following Zubeydeh, who had returned and stood staring at her, her feet refused to obey.
"But I should prefer to remain here——" she said firmly.
A vestige of a smile—slight, but none the less disagreeable—came into the woman's yellow face.
"The Harim," she said dryly, "is intended for the daughters of the faithful. You cannot stay tonight."
And as Marishka still stood irresolutely, she caught her by the arm with a grip which was none too gentle, and pushed her down the corridor and out into the mabein.
Marishka sat upon the couch in the room into which she had first been conducted, her head near the latticed window, through which the pale green moonlight vied with the glow from the lantern over her head. Though it could not yet be time for him to return, she listened intently for the sound of the footsteps of the Beg. Had she succeeded? In spite of the danger which threatened Hugh Renwick, and the ominous absence of Captain Goritz, she felt that there was a chance that all might still be well. Where was Captain Goritz? The tale that he had gone upon a journey was an invention, of course. He was here in Sarajevo if not in the house where she was held a prisoner, at least somewhere near, where he could be sure of the culmination of the plot to remove Hugh Renwick, without himself being involved in any unpleasant issues. From the appearance of the Beg of Rataj and of the man she had met at the foot of the stairs, she knew that any dreadful deed was possible in the darkness of the secluded streets outside the house, in the garden below, or in the house itself. But she did not despair. It was easier to win money by keeping within the law than by breaking it. The Beg was a rogue, but money was his fetish, and Marishka's bribe was the larger.
As the moments lengthened and the man did not return, hope ebbed, and she grew anxious. The small metal clock on the table in the corner indicated the hour. It was half-past eleven. In half an hour, if the Beg had not delivered her note, Hugh Renwick would come to find her, unless! She breathed a silent prayer—unless he had not yet reached Sarajevo! For hours she had prayed that he had followed her, for that was the proof of his devotion that her heart required of him; but now she prayed just as fervently that he had not come. The notion of another attempt to escape occurred to her, but when she got up and peered down into the darkness of the stairway which led below, her courage failed her, and she remembered the man at the foot of the other stair. Zubeydeh, too, was near, and while she was planning, the woman passed into the Harim and closed the door behind her.
She peered out of the window into the garden, searching its shadows for signs of a guard, but all was quiet, except for the sound of whispering voices, which might have come from the street or from the house adjoining. In the dim light she watched the hour hand of the clock as it slowly moved around the dial. Ten, fifteen minutes passed, and still she heard no sound of footsteps. What if Hugh came while the Beg was absent searching for him? She knew that there must be other men besides the villain she had met at the foot of the stairs. What orders had the Beg given his men? And what orders had he countermanded? The silence was closing in upon her like a fog. She could not bear it. What if Hugh were already at the foot of the stairs, waiting to knock upon the door of the Harim as she had directed? The suspense was killing her. She rose quietly and tried the door of the dutap into the corridor which led to the Harim. It was locked.
She staggered and clung to the wall to keep from falling. She saw it all now. Goritz had intercepted the note she had sent by Yeva. They were in there—Zubeydeh, the Beg and his men, and perhaps Goritz, too, waiting—waiting for the two knocks at the steps below. And then the door would be opened, and Hugh——