when she became too troublesome at home. Zohra had loved a young Irish
officer who was murdered for her sake, and had no true affection to
give Ahmed or any other. She hated all men because of the murderer, her
own nephew, and vowed that since her love had cost the life of the one
who had her heart, others who dared to love her must pay the same
price. When Ahmed died suddenly, soon after the wedding, those who had
heard of Zohra's vow (and there were many in the harems) whispered
"poison." Never again did the Princess drive out to see the women she
knew; and those who had been her friends were sent away from the door
of the dead Ahmed's palace, over which he had suspended for "luck," a
huge crocodile killed in the far south. But Zohra was beautiful, with
strange eyes which drew love whether she asked for it or not; and
sometimes a small lattice would open in a bay of one of those windows
of wooden lace whose carving was known as mushrbiyeh work because
shirib, or sherbet, used to be placed there to cool. Out of the lattice
would look a wonderful face, as thinly veiled as the moon by a mist,
and then it would vanish so quickly that a man who saw, half believed
that he had dreamed. But the eyes of the dream seemed to call, and
could not be forgotten, any more than the song of a siren can cease to
echo in ears which once have heard.

After the beginning of Zohra's widowhood, the noblest and handsomest
youths of Cairo began mysteriously to disappear. They would be well and
happy one day, and the next they would be gone from the places that
knew them. By and by their bodies would be found in a canal; always the
same canal, near the water gate of the House of the Crocodile. Then the
vow of the Princess was remembered: but there was no English rule in
those days, and the police shut their ears and eyes where a daughter of
Mohammed Ali was concerned. Mothers and sisters of handsome young men
shuddered and begged those they loved never to pass through the dark