"Yes. I shall go——"
There was a sound upon the stairs behind Zubeydeh and Yeva thrust herself forward.
"I was at the window above. I heard. Allah be praised! You are alive?"
"Yeva! You know anything—of her?"
"No, nothing," sadly. And then as she examined him closely, "But you must come into the house. I will do what you wish."
The matter was now out of Zubeydeh's hands, for whatever her doubts, Yeva's swift confidence had swept them away. She stood aside and motioned for him to go up the stairs.
"You will not remain long?" she asked.
"Only long enough to change my clothing—you will provide?"
"Yes. There are garments."
"A fez, jacket, breeches, stout opankas."