“What secret?” I asked, endeavouring to read her story in her brilliant eyes.
“The Secret of the Asps,” she answered, in a calm, low tone. “The secret of the strange, mysterious mark that is upon my breast and thine. When it is solved, then only may peace be ours.”
“Tell me all thou knowest regarding the curious imprint,” I said eagerly, lifting her bejewelled hand and pressing it tenderly. “Now that I am thy best beloved, ready to serve thee blindly and implicitly, surely I may know the secret of things concerning both of us,” I argued.
But with a sigh she answered, “No. Some knowledge hath been conveyed to me upon condition that I should preserve its secret until such time as the mystery shall be elucidated. Suffice it to thee to know that thou art the person to whom the truth may be revealed if thou hast forbearance and courage.”
“Will any act of mine place about thee the walls of security and the stillness of peace?” I inquired, with eagerness.
“Already have I told thee that, if thou wilt, thou canst save me.”
“From what destiny?”
“From one unknown, yet horrible—undecided, yet terrible,” she answered, hoarsely.
“Then I am thine to command, O Azala,” I answered. “In Zafar thou hast a servant who will serve thee with faith and fearlessness, unto even the uttermost ends of the earth.”
“When the dawn cometh we shall be compelled to part, for full well thou knowest what fate awaiteth thee if thou wert discovered by Khazneh or his brutal myrmidons,” she said, slowly. “But ere we bid each other farewell we have much to arrange, for upon the success of our plans dependeth whether our hands again clasp in welcome, or our lips meet in salutation. In receiving thee here I have run many risks in common with thee. If our enemies conveyed word unto the Sultan, assuredly would the vials of his wrath be poured out upon me, and he would execute his threat of giving me in marriage to some common soldier of the palace guard.”