They remained facing each other, silent, staring. No further words were necessary. Churi knew very well now why he had come; but he sat struggling with himself, for he was disturbed. Nevertheless Fidá’s ghastly face pled strongly. After a few moments, during which the slave suffered under his degradation, Churi rose, walked to the shadowy corner of the room, bent over for a moment or two, working in the earth of the floor, and then came back to Fidá with the gold box in his hand. Fidá, looking into the unmatched eyes, saw animosity in one and scorn in the other.
“There. Take back thy gift.” Churi held the box out to him.
To the eunuch’s astonishment, Fidá deliberately accepted it, rolled the ruby out into his hand, and for a moment feasted his eyes on it. Then he pressed it to his breast, shut his eyes, and moved his lips in prayer. When the prayer ended, he replaced the jewel in its case, and once more held it out to Churi, who had stood in silence, watching him.
“I thank thee,” said Fidá, simply.
Churi looked surprised anew. “Wilt thou not keep it?” he asked.
“Ah! Thou thinkest me such a dog?”
“Will that help thee—just the moment of it?”
“I do not know; yet it seems to me that the very sight of it hath helped me.”
A second time Churi held out the box, this time voluntarily. “Take it and keep it on thy person for a week.”
Fidá drew back.