The priest nodded. Hafiz, after a hesitating look into the other’s face continued:
“I have placed a woman in my harem, father.”
A smile reassured him.
“All is known to me, my son,” came the calm reply. “But I must speak with you concerning the Vision with which Allah has just favored me. Your vizier is not a true man, dear Hafiz.”
“I have feared as much, my father, though striving to win him to me by many favors.”
“He plots for your destruction, urged to treachery by a maiden very beautiful to mortal eyes, but equally repulsive to the all-wise Allah.”
“It is his daughter,” said the Khan, musingly.
“I have seen a man riding from Agahr the vizier to the camp of Kasam. Listen well, my son, for the Vision was given me that you might have knowledge.”
In low tones Salaman now described the scenes he had witnessed in his trance, and the Khan attended gravely to each word of the recital, frowning at times, then smiling, and at the last giving a shudder of horror as the catastrophy was unfolded.
Afterward he sat long in deep thought, exclaiming at last, with a sigh of regret: