“How long now,” she asked the eunuch, “before we return to our own lovely Persian home? Oh, I am sick of Bagdad.”
“But two, three days, then I have the order.”
“Ah!” he added, “my little bird-mistress will rejoice when at last the Shah sends for her!”
Beebee clapped her little hands.
“Indeed, indeed, I shall be joyful,” she said, “when the day of my deliverance comes.”
I slept that night in Beebee’s apartment; but the whole of next forenoon wore away and nothing unusual occurred, and I began to notice that sadness was once more stealing over the face of my young mistress.
But when it was once more close upon sunset, the eunuch glided silently up to the window of the balcony, on which Beebee sat, with Miss Morgan and me.
“Would the ladies be amused?” he asked. “A Persian merchant, with a box of jewellery and many fine things, would like to spread his wares at their feet?”
A quick glance passed betwixt Miss Morgan and Beebee, and the latter smiled and nodded assent.
In a few minutes more, Antonio, the priest, prostrated himself on the mosaic, before the now veiled ladies; but was told he might arise and show his wares.