“But must I be absent from thee long?”
“I know not. Thy mission may perchance occupy thee many days.”
“And in the meantime thou mayest be forced to become the wife of that brute, Hadj Absalam!”
“Never!” she cried, setting her teeth. “I will kill myself!”
“Is it imperative that I should be absent from thy side in this the hour of thy peril?” I asked, placing my arm tenderly around her neck and drawing her closer towards me.
A flash of love-light gleamed on her sweet face.
“Yes. Seek the imam to-night, ere it be too late. Whatever he telleth thee, investigate at all cost. If thou art successful in obtaining a revelation of the Wondrous Mystery, assuredly thou wilt save me from a fate that I fear worse than the grave.”
“Trust me, O Zoraida!” I answered, kissing her fervently, as I took the Crescent and the scrap of paper, concealing them in my clothing. “On leaving thee, I will not halt until I have found the holy man, and have gained from him that knowledge which he alone can give. But what of thee? While I am absent, thou wilt be friendless!”
“Allah, the One Merciful, all things discerneth; to us shall it be as He willeth,” she said, slowly raising my hand and pressing my fingers to her lips.
“If thou art, alas! forced to become Queen of this kingdom of murderers! If thou art—”