"If I give you the rug," interposed Fortune, "will you promise freedom to us all?"
Mahomed stepped back, nonplussed. He hadn't expected any information from this quarter.
"I have the rug," declared Fortune calmly, though she could scarcely hear her own voice, her heart beat so furiously.
"You have it?" Mahomed was confused. Here was a turn in the road upon which he had set no calculation. All three of them!
"Yes. And upon condition that you liberate us all, I will put it into your hands. But it must be my writing this time."
A white man would have blushed under the reproach in her look. Mahomed smiled amiably, pleased over his cleverness. "Where is the kisweh?"
"The kisweh?"
"The Holy Yhiordes. Where is it?"
"That I refuse to tell you. Your word of honor first, to bind the bargain."