any other poisonous reptile?"

"My Zara, I did not even see him. He lies cradled in rose leaves, no
doubt, and the singing of the west wind is not sweet enough for his
lullaby. No profane eye must rest on this sacred treasure fresh from
the hands of the gods! Is he not the heir of Kingsland? But Achmet
the Astrologer has cast his horoscope, and Achmet, and Zara, his wife,
wilt see that the starry destiny is fulfilled. Shall we not?"

"If I only had him here," Zara cried, clawing the air with her two
hands, "I would throttle the baby snake, and fling him dead in his
father's face. And that father! Oh, burning alive would be far too
merciful for him!"

Achmet smiled, and drew her long black braids caressingly through his
fingers.

"You know how to hate, and you will teach our little one. Yes, the
fate I have foretold shall come to pass, and the son of Sir Jasper will
live to curse the day of his birth. And now I will remove my disguise,
and wash and breakfast, for I feel the calls of hunger."

The lower apartment of the hut on the heath was the very picture of
abject poverty and dreary desolation. The earthen floor was broken and
rough; the sunlight came sifting through the chinks in the broken
walls. A smoky fire of wet driftwood smoldered, under a pot on the
crook. There was neither table nor chairs. A straw pallet with a
wretched coverlet lay in one corner; a few broken stools were scattered
around; a few articles of clothing hung on the wall. That was all.