"All sorts of fancies crept into my brain; I tried in vain to put them away. At last I tried to go. I could not; I was as if rooted to the spot.
"I looked around and fancied I was going mad, and I laughed. And the echoes came back from all around, so that the air seemed full of mocking devils, and I turned round and round to see whence came the sound.
"There was a figure bowing before me, and a voice said: 'Salaam, Sahib,' and in front, by the light of the moon, I saw a man.
"'I have a token for my lord,' he said, 'from one he loves, who begs him to accept it and so depart,' and he handed me the stone you have seen.
"'Stop,' I cried, taking it. 'Are you her servant?'
"'The Flower of the Cinnamon was my daughter,' he answered, 'but now—no longer.'
"'What do you mean?' I cried again.
"'The Flower of the Cinnamon is not,' he said; 'and in your hand you hold the token.'
"The moonlight caught the glitter of his evil eye, and I saw then it was the man who had lain between my feet. I sprang forward to seize him, and he was gone; gone like the wind, with not a trace behind.
"In my hand I still clenched the pebble; I took it in my fingers to put it in my pocket. There was the other token, my amulet of ivory. I took it out to look at it, and its veins were red—red with the streaks of blood.