Morgiana drew up one little foot on the divan, and clasped it with both hands.
"Wallah! How admirable has been your trap, foster-brother. Mary had told nearly all you had done, before Iftikhar broke in upon us. Woe to us, and joy to you! Allah grant we may have our day also. So it was you alone that penetrated the disguise of Cid Musa. Allah himself might hardly outwit you!"
Zeyneb smiled at the flattery. "I am honored, foster-sister."
"And tell this," demanded she, letting her foot drop to the rugs, "are the faithless sentries warned?"
"Mashallah, no! They think all is well. In the morning they are seized and beheaded. We led the prisoners to the palace by another way."
"What escapes you, my Zeyneb!" cried the other, rising and stepping toward the doorway. "But tell me this,—are the horses of these three adventurers taken?"
Zeyneb gave a start and a curse.
"Blasted am I! Forgotten! Iftikhar left all in my hands. The horses are still where they were tethered. They will be taken by morning. I will go and send for them at once."
Before he could cry out, Morgiana had dashed to the door and shot the bolt.
"Wallah! You rave," howled the dwarf, smitten with fear. "Help, Hakem!" For Morgiana, with arms outstretched, stood before the door, her face flaming defiance.