“Thou art threatened,” she answered slowly. “Thou wilt, perhaps, remember that a month ago thou wert in Kabylia, and left Fort National for Tizi Ouzou. Thou hadst the careless indifference that thy free life giveth, and, no doubt, thou wert prepared to meet Eblis himself if he promised an adventure. On that occasion with whom didst thou travel?”
“I journeyed in company of a wealthy man of thy people, who was returning from the wine market.”
“True, O friend,” she replied. “A week ago thou didst describe that journey to a Frank of the Moniteur de l’Algérie, and ridiculed thy companion. See here!” and stretching forth her hand, she took up a paper containing an interview in which I had treated the journey in a comic vein, and had denounced in no measured terms the bigotry of my fellow-traveller.
“Thou art a Veiled Man; and that man,” she continued, “hath sworn upon the book of Everlasting Will to kill thee!”
“How dost thou know this, O thou whose face is rivalled only by the sun?” I asked quickly.
“Because—because the man thou hast ridiculed is my husband!” she replied, rising, and adding wildly, “Because I overheard the villainous scheme that he hath planned with his brother to take thy life, and at the risk of mine own honour I determined to save thee. Allah alone knoweth how terrible is my life alone in this place with my servants, bound to a fierce, brutal man who loveth me not, and upon whose brow the Câfer hath set seal.”
“Is thy husband neglectful, then?” I asked, noticing the poignant sorrow that in that moment seemed to have crushed her.
“Alas! yes. Whithersoever I go the curse of Sajin seemeth upon me,” she sighed, passing her slim, bejewelled hand slowly across her white forehead. Tears welled in her brilliant eyes, as she added in a broken voice, “I am lost—lost to all; soulless, uncared for, unloved.”
She hesitated a moment thoughtfully, glancing first at her own bejewelled hands find then at mine. With a quick movement she drew from one of her fingers a curious ring of silver, around which were Arabic characters in gold.
“See!” she cried, as if a sudden thought had occurred to her. “Take this, and wear it. It is my talisman, and as long as it is upon thy finger no harm can befall thee. It beareth the stamp of ‘La Belle,’ and will preserve thee in health and guard thee in the hour of tribulation.”