El-Râmi shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
“What does that matter if, as you declare, her time of captivity is soon to end? According to your prognostications she will ere long set herself free.”
The monk’s fine eyes flashed forth a calm and holy triumph.
“Most assuredly she will!”
El-Râmi looked at him and seemed about to make some angry retort, but, checking himself, he bowed with a kind of mingled submissiveness and irony, saying—
“I will not be so discourteous as to doubt your word! But—I would only remind you that nothing in this world is certain——”
“Except the Law of God!” interrupted the monk with passionate emphasis—“That is immutable,—and against that, El-Râmi Zarânos, you contend in vain! Opposed to that, your strength and power must come to naught,—and all they who wonder at your skill and wisdom shall by and by ask one another the old question—‘What went ye out for to see?’ And the answer shall describe your fate—‘A reed shaken by the wind!’”
He turned away as he spoke and, without another look at the beautiful Lilith, he left the room. El-Râmi stood irresolute for a moment, thinking deeply,—then, touching the bell which would summon Zaroba back to her usual duty of watching the tranced girl, he swiftly followed his mysterious guest.
XXI.
He found him quietly seated in the study, close beside the window, which he had thrown open for air. The rain had ceased,—a few stars shone out in the misty sky, and there was a fresh smell of earth and grass and flowers, as though all were suddenly growing together by some new impetus.