"I have trained you--yes. What fate was before you when I intervened in that Mecca slave-market? You who are 'only in part of the East.'

Do you forget so soon how you cowered there amongst the others, Arabs, Circa.s.sians, Georgians, Nubians, striving to veil your beauty from those ravenous eyes? From _what_ did I rescue you?"

"And _for_ what?" cried Miska bitterly. "To use me as a lure--and beat me if I failed."

Fo-Hi stood watching her, and slowly, as he watched, terror grew upon her and she retreated before him, step by step. He made no attempt to follow her, but continued to watch. Then, raising the whip he broke it across his knee and dropped the pieces on the floor.

At that she extended her hands towards him pitifully.

"Oh! what are you going to do to me!" she said. "Let me go! let me go!

I can no more be of use to you. Give me back my life and let me go-- et me go and hide away from them all--from all ... the world...."

Her words died away and ceased upon a suppressed hysterical sob. For, in silence, Fo-Hi stood watching her, unmoved.

"Oh!" she moaned, and sank cowering upon a _diwan--_ "why do you watch me so!"

"Because," came the metallic voice, softly--"you are beautiful with a beauty given but rarely to the daughters of men. The Sublime Order has acquired many pretty women--for they are potent weapons--but none so fair as you. Miska, I would make life sweet for you."

"Ah! you do not mean that!" she whispered fearfully.

"Have I not clothed you in the raiment of a princess!" continued Fo-Hi. "To-night, at my urgent request, you wear the charming national costume in which I delight to see you. But is there a woman of Paris, of London, of New York, who has such robes, such jewels, such apartments as you possess? Perhaps the peculiar duties which I have required you to perform, the hideous disguises, which you have sometimes been called upon to adopt, have disgusted you."

Her heart beating wildly, for she did not know this mood but divined it to portend some unique horror, Miska crouched, head averted.

"To-night the hour has come to break the whip. To-night the master in me dies. My cloak of wise authority has fallen from me and I offer myself in bondage to _you_, my slave!"

"This is some trap you set for me!" she whispered.

But Fo-Hi, paying no heed to her words, continued in the same rapt voice:

"Truly have you observed that the Chinese wife is but a slave to her lord. I have said that the relation of master and slave is ended between us. I offer you a companionship that signifies absolute freedom and perfect understanding. Half of all I have--and the world lies in my grasp--is yours. I offer a throne set upon the Seven Mountains of the Universe. Look into my eyes and read the truth."

But lower and lower she cowered upon the _diwan._

"No, no! I am afraid!"

Fo-Hi approached her closely and abject terror now had robbed her of strength. Her limbs seemed to have become numbed, her tongue clave to the roof of her mouth.

"Fear me no more, Miska," said Fo-Hi. "I _will_ you nothing but joy.

The man who has learned the Fifth Secret of Rache Churan--who has learned how to control his will--holds a power absolute and beyond perfectability. You know, who have dwelt beneath my roof, that there is no escape from my will." His calm was terrible, and his glance, through the green veil, was like a ray of scorching heat. His voice sank lower and lower.

"There is one frailty, Miska, that even the Adept cannot conquer. It is inherent in every man. Miska, I would not _force_ you to grasp the joy I offer; I would have you _accept_ it willingly. No! do not turn from me! No woman in all the world has ever heard me plead, as I plead to you. Never before have I _sued_ for favours. Do not turn from me, Miska."

Slightly, the metallic voice vibrated, and the ruffling of that giant calm was a thing horrible to witness. Fo-Hi extended his long yellow hands, advancing step by step until he stood over the cowering girl.

Irresistibly her glance was drawn to those blazing eyes which the veil could not hide, and as she met that unblinking gaze her own eyes dilated and grew fixed as those of a sleep-walker. A moment Fo-Hi stood so. Then pa.s.sion swept him from his feet and he seized her fiercely.

"Your eyes drive me mad!" he hissed. "Your lips taunt me, and I know all earthly greatness to be a mirage, its conquests visions, and its fairness dust. I would rather be a captive in your white arms than the emperor of heaven! Your sweetness intoxicates me, Miska. A fever burns me up!"

Helpless, enmeshed in the toils of that mighty will, Miska raised her head; and gradually her expression changed. Fear was smoothed away from her lovely face as by some magic brush. She grew placid; and finally she smiled--the luresome, caressing smile of the East. Nearer and nearer drew the green veil. Then, uttering a sudden fierce exclamation, Fo-Hi thrust her from him.

"That smile is not for _me,_ the man!" he cried gutterally. "Ah! I could curse the power that I coveted and set above all earthly joys!

I who boasted that he could control his will--I read in your eyes that I am _willing_ you to love me! I seek a gift and can obtain but a tribute!"

Miska, with a sobbing moan, sank upon the _diwan._ Fo-Hi stood motionless, looking straight before him. His terrible calm was restored.

"It is the bitter truth," he said--"that to win the world I have bartered the birthright of men; the art of winning a woman's heart.

There is much in our Chinese wisdom. I erred in breaking the whip.

I erred in doubting my own prescience, which told me that the smiles I could not woo were given freely to another ... and perhaps the kisses. At least I can set these poor frail human doubts at rest."

He crossed and struck a gong which hung midway between the two doors.

CHAPTER IV

THE GUILE OF THE EAST

Her beautiful face a mask of anguish, Miska cowered upon the _diwan,_ watching the closed doors. Fo-Hi stood in the centre of the great room with his back to the entrance. Silently one of the lacquered panels slid open and Chunda Lal entered. He saluted the figure of the veiled Chinaman but never once glanced in the direction of the _diwan_ from which Miska wildly was watching him.

Without turning his head, Fo-Hi, who seemed to detect the presence of the silent Hindu by means of some fifth sense, pointed to a bundle of long rods stacked in a corner of the room.

His brown face expressionless as that of a bronze statue, Chunda Lal crossed and took the rods from their place.

_"Tum samajhte ho?"_ (Do you understand?) said Fo-Hi. Chunda Lal inclined his head.

_"Main tumhari bat manunga"_ (Your orders shall be obeyed), he replied.

"Ah, G.o.d! no!" whispered Miska--"what are you going to do?"

"Your Hindustani was ever poor, Miska," said Fo-Hi.

He turned to Chunda Lal.

"Until you hear the gong," he said in English.

Miska leapt to her feet, as Chunda Lal, never once glancing at her, went out bearing the rods, and closed the door behind him. Fo-Hi turned and confronted her.

_"Ta'ala hina_ (come hither), Miska!" he said softly. "Shall I speak to you in the soft Arab tongue? Come to me, lovely Miska. Let me feel how that sorrowful heart will leap like a captive gazelle."

But Miska shrank back from him, pale to the lips.

"Very well." His metallic voice sank to a hiss. "I employ no force.

You shall yield to me your heart as a love offering. Of such motives as jealousy and revenge you know me incapable. What I do, I do with a purpose. That compa.s.sion of yours shall be a lever to cast you into my arms. Your hatred you shall conquer."

"Oh, have you no mercy? Is there _nothing_ human in your heart? Did I say I hate you!"

"Your eyes are eloquent, Miska. I cherish two memories of those beautiful eyes. One is of their fear and loathing--of _me;_ the other is of their sweet softness when they watched the departure of my guest.