Herse was bustling about the deck: "Such a pretty mistress, such a young
mistress as you, and kept here like a slave! If the young mistress only
chose she could easily--quite easily--have as good a lover as our Gorgo,
and better; so pretty and so young! And I know some one who would dress
the pretty mistress in red gold and pale pearls and bright jewels, if
sweet Dada only said the word."

"And why should sweet Dada not say the word?" echoed the girl gaily.
"Who is it that has so many nice things and all for me? You--I shall
never remember your name if I live to be as old as Damia. . . ."

"Sachepris, Sachepris is my name," said the woman, but call me anything
else you like. The lover I mean is the son of the rich Christian, Mary.
A handsome man, my lord Marcus; and he has horses, such fine horses, and
more gold pieces than the pebbles on the shore there. Sachepris knows
that he has sent out slaves to look for the pretty mistress. Send him a
token--write to my lord Marcus."

"Write?" laughed Dada. "Girls learn other things in my country; but if
I could--shall I tell you something? I would not write him a line.
Those who want me may seek me!"

"He is seeking, he is trying to find the pretty mistress," declared the
woman; "he is full of you, quite full of you, and if I dared...."

"Well?"

"I would go and say to my lord Marcus, quite in a secret. . . ."

"Well, what? Speak out, woman."