not be held back. But the unearthly beauty of his eyes!" He caught his
breath as he spoke. And then he seemed to awaken as one struggling
against a spell.

"What is thy name?" he asked.

Zia also had lost his breath. What had the man meant when he spoke of
his eyes?

He told his name, but he could answer no further questions. He did not
know whose son he was; he had no home; of his mistress he knew only that
her name was Judith and that she lived on alms.

Even while he related these things he remembered his lesson, and,
dropping his eyelids, fixed his gaze on the camel's feet.

"Why dost thou cast thine eyes downward?" the man asked in a troubled
and intense voice.

Zia could not speak, being stricken with fear and the dumbness of
bewilderment. He stood quite silent, and as he lifted his eyes and let
them rest on the stranger's own, they became large with tears--big,
piteous tears.

"Why?" persisted the man, anxiously. "Is it because thou seest evil in
my soul?"

"No, no!" sobbed Zia. "One taught me to look away because I am hideous
and--my eyes--are evil."