Ere the keen lord,
The eager in sword-play,
My hand shall make end of.
LAY OF GUDRUN.
For a while the Magian waited as the lovers had left him, appearing more like a careless heap of yellow robes than a living man. At last, gaining a little courage from the silence, he thrust out his hooked nose and bald head, like an old vulture peering over a carcass. The glint of the forgotten dagger drew his bleared gaze, and he glared at the cold blade in a fascination of terror. Soon, however, the silver hilt caught his eye, and his fear gave way to greed. A scrawny hand followed the head from the yellow heap, reaching out to clutch the treasure. But then a soft step sounded in the doorway, and the leech drew back into his robes, livid with abject fear.
The curtains of the doorway parted, and Fastrada, radiant in the splendor of her jewels and her voluptuous beauty, advanced slowly into the room. A little way from the entrance, she paused to glance carelessly across the chamber, and then she stretched her arms above her head with the lazy gracefulness of a cat.
"Ai, Hertha," she purred, "you 'll lack service this night. The laggard wizard has been called to dose some filthy slave, and I 've waited till sleep weighs down my eyelids. Would that I were less drowsy! The king is pleased that I ply needle with such industry. It would give me double pleasure to sit by and watch the harlot's daughter finish the piece. But it's pleasant these chilly nights to creep beneath the silken coverlets. I 'll go now. Faul! Who's been at my tapestries? Ah, Kosru! Is that you?"
"Pity, gracious queen! have compassion on your slave!" whined the leech. "A palsy has stricken my limbs. As I entered, the stroke came upon me. The hangings tore in my grasp as I fell."
"Ah--and how came this here?" demanded the queen, pointing to the dagger on the wolfskin rug before the Magian.
"That knife? I had not seen it, gracious dame."