her eyes dwelt for a moment on the address upon the envelope, and then
she handed it back to Nahoum without a word. She looked him in the eyes
and spoke. "He saved your life, he gave you all you had lost. It was
not his fault that Prince Kaid chose him for his chief counsellor. You
would be lying where your brother lies, were it not for Claridge Pasha."

"It may be; but the luck was with me; and I have my way."

She drew herself together to say what was hard to say. "Excellency, the
man who was killed deserved to die. Only by lies, only by subterfuge,
only because I was curious to see the inside of the Palace, and because I
had known him in London, did I, without a thought of indiscretion, give
myself to his care to come here. I was so young; I did not know life, or
men--or Egyptians." The last word was uttered with low scorn.

He glanced up quickly, and for the first time she saw a gleam of malice
in his eyes. She could not feel sorry she had said it, yet she must
remove the impression if possible.

"What Claridge Pasha did, any man would have done, Excellency. He
struck, and death was an accident. Foorgat's temple struck the corner of
a pedestal.

"His death was instant. He would have killed Claridge Pasha if it had
been possible--he tried to do so. But, Excellency, if you have a
daughter, if you ever had a child, what would you have done if any man
had--"

"In the East daughters are more discreet; they tempt men less," he
answered quietly, and fingered the string of beads he carried.