“My children, it is time to part,” he said.
“To part!” cried Inarime. “Then I am not to return to Xinara to-night with you—and him?”
“You are to stay here, and he is to go. Have you not told her?” he demanded sternly of Reineke.
“Nay, sir, consider. Had I time? Can I tell her?” Gustav pleaded, with a broken voice.
Inarime looked from one to the other. In the dusk the light in her lover’s eyes seemed to baffle her searching gaze, and she approached her father a step, her glance still wedded to Gustav’s.
“What is there to tell me?” she commanded of both.
“He is a Turk, my daughter. There can be nothing between you,” said Selaka, sadly.
“Oh, father! That may not be. I love him, his lips have sealed my promise upon mine. I cannot now take back that which I have given. You do not forsake me?” she cried, turning to Gustav, in an impulse of childish yearning.
“I! Inarime!”