"And the street below?"

Yeva nodded and renewed the inspection of her new present in the mirror, so Marishka wrote:

HUGH,

I am a prisoner in a house near the Sirokac Tor beyond the Carsija--a house with a small garden the gate of which has a blue door. I am treated with every courtesy, but I am frightened. Come tonight at twelve to the small court at the left of the house and knock twice upon the door. I will come to you. Forgive me.

MARISHKA.

While Yeva was scrutinizing her new adornment in the small mirror Marishka reread the note. She did not wish to alarm her lover unduly, for perhaps after all there were no need for grave alarm.

The intentions of Captain Goritz were perhaps of the best, his given word to liberate her, to free her from her promise and return her to her friends, had been spoken with an air of sincerity, which under other conditions might have been impressive. But some feminine instinct in her still doubted--still doubted and feared him. And in spite of his many kindnesses, his few moments of insensibility to her weariness and distress there in the motor in the flight from Konopisht, and in the railway carriage when he had spoken of Hugh Renwick's connection with hated Serbia--these memories of their association lingered and persisted. She feared him. The failure of their mission would perhaps have made a difference; and the promise of a man whose whole existence was a living lie, was but a slender reed to hang upon.

She straightened abruptly and gazed before her in sudden dismay. Her word of honor--as a Strahni! She was breaking her promise--had already broken it. For she had pledged herself to Goritz--to go with him whither he pleased, if he would enable her to save the life of Sophie Chotek.

But he had failed! _But he had failed!_ She clutched at the sophistry desperately. Goritz had failed. Under such conditions should she consider her promise binding? It had been conditional. Liberty, there in the street below, just at her elbow, and Hugh Renwick within reach! She came to this conclusion with desperate speed, and quickly addressed and sealed the envelope.

Yeva, before the mirror, was wrapped in admiration of her new possession.

"Am I not beautiful in it, Fraulein?" she was asking as she twisted and turned, examining herself at every angle.

"Yes, Yeva," said Marishka quietly, "but it is not a garment in which one goes out upon the street."

"The street!" Yeva laughed deliciously. "I would make a sensation in Bosna-Seraj, I can tell you, attired only in this and a _yashmak_."

And then seeing the note lying upon the tabourette, she came running with little childish footsteps. "Ah, you have sealed it! And you are not going to let me see?"

"It is nothing, Yeva."

"But I thought----" peevishly.

"How can you be interested in my little affairs?"

"I hoped that he might come and I should see him through the _dutap_."

"Perhaps he may!" said Marishka with an inspiration. "Could you be trusted to keep this message a secret? To tell no one?"

"I have already promised----"

"Not even to Zubeydeh----?"

"Of course not. Zubeydeh is old and ugly. She would not understand what a young girl thinks about."

"And can you go out without her knowing?"

"By the private stairway. Of course. There is another door below, locked, but I can procure a key."

"Then I too----" Marishka paused and Yeva turned, reading her thoughts.

"Ah, I understand. You wish to go to him. It is a pity, but it is impossible."

"Impossible! Why?"

"I can do the Fraulein a favor, since she has been kind to me, but to disobey the commands of my lord and master--I would call upon myself the curses of Allah."

Marishka pondered for a moment. "The Effendi desires that I remain here?" she asked.

"That is his command, Fraulein."

"I see."

If Marishka had had any doubts as to the intentions of Captain Goritz, the Beg of Rataj had now removed them. How much or how little of what the girl revealed had been born of innocence or how much of design, Marishka could not know, but it hardly seemed possible that the child could be meshed so deeply in this intrigue. Marishka felt sure that Yeva had promised to deliver her note, because the situation amused and interested her, as did her visitor, and because of the pink garment Yeva was now so reluctantly laying aside.

Marishka took another garment from the valise, a dainty drapery of silk edged with fine lace, and held it up temptingly.

"Yeva," she said.

"Yes, Fraulein."

"This, too, is very beautiful, do you not think so?"

Yeva sighed wistfully.

"Yes. It is very beautiful."

"And would you care to have this too?"

"Would I----? Oh, Fraulein! I cannot believe----"

Yeva came forward with arms outstretched, brown fingers curling, but as she was about to touch the garment Marishka swept it away and put it behind her back.

"I will give it to you----"

"Yes----"

"If you will take me out with you by the secret door to the Europa Hotel."

"Fraulein!" The girl stopped aghast and then slowly turned away.

"You would have me disobey the commands of my lord and master?" she said in an awed whisper.

"I am asking only my rights," urged Marishka desperately. "I am an Austrian with many friends. I have believed that I was a guest in this house, welcome to come and to go as I choose. If the Effendi desires to keep me against my will he runs a great risk of offending the government of Austria and my friends."

"As to that I do not know----" said Yeva plaintively.

"It will do you no harm to be my friend."

"I am your friend. But to disobey the command of one's lord and master----"