light words; I feel, I know instinctively, that the woman I love
has an attraction about her which is not good, but evil; yet what
does that matter? Do not men sometimes love vile women?"

"Always!" replied Gervase briefly.

"Gervase, I have suffered tortures ever since I saw her face!"
exclaimed the unhappy lad, his self-control suddenly giving way.
"You cannot imagine what my life has been! Her eyes make me mad,--
the merest touch of her hand seems to drag me away invisibly ..."

"To perdition!" finished Gervase. "That is the usual end of the
journey we men take with beautiful women."

"And now," went on Denzil, hardly heeding him, "as if my own
despair were not sufficient, you must needs add to it! What evil
fate, I wonder, sent you to Cairo! Of course, I have no chance
with her now; you are sure to win the day. And can you wonder then
that I feel as if I could kill you?"

"Oh, I wonder at nothing," said Gervase calmly, "except, perhaps,
at myself. And I echo your words most feelingly,--What evil fate
sent me to Cairo? I cannot tell! But here I purpose to remain. My
dear Murray, don't let us quarrel if we can help it; it is such a
waste of time. I am not angry with you for loving la belle Ziska,-
-try, therefore, not to be angry with me. Let the fair one herself
decide as to our merits. My own opinion is that she cares for
neither of us, and, moreover, that she never will care for any one
except her fascinating self. And certainly her charms are quite
enough to engross her whole attention. By the way, let me ask you,