"To treat Her Excellency with kindness! And could I do anything else? My house, poor as it is----"

"Effendi," Marishka cut in boldly, "let us waste no words. I am a prisoner in your house, at the instance of Captain--of Herr Lieutenant von Arnstorf----"

"A prisoner? Has not the Excellency----?"

"One moment. I am not aware how much you know of the political situation which has brought me to Bosna-Seraj, but I do know that I am confined here against my will--a prisoner in a house within the realms of my own country. Of course you know that I have sought to escape, that I have written to a friend who will do what he can to liberate me."

"Excellency, I beg of you----"

"Please let me finish. For political reasons, the fact of my presence here and my mission should be kept a secret. My friends, therefore, would not wish to call upon General Potiorek, the governor, for soldiers or police, if my liberty can be secured quietly--without commotion. I am willing to meet you upon any reasonable grounds."

Marishka paused, for the man had risen and was pacing the floor slowly.

"Ah, Excellency, I, too, will waste no further speech, for I see that you are a woman of the world, and I, Beg of Rataj, am only a seller of rugs. But I am placed in a difficult position. It has pained me deeply to see you constrained to stay in my poor house against your will. And yet, what would you? His Excellency has done me many favors, and gratitude is one of the strongest traits in a nature which suffers much misuse. I do not know anything of politics, or of the controversy between you, and I have simply obeyed the dictates of my heart in giving his Excellency some proof--some return of his kindnesses to me. But since I have seen you, heard your voice, felt the distinction of your presence in my poor house, I am torn between my emotions--of gratitude and of pity."

"How much do you want?" said Marishka quietly.

"Excellency, the brutality of the words!"

"I mean them. How much?"

The man's keen eyes appraised her quickly and then looked away, but he sank upon his cushion again, wagging his head and breathing a deep sigh to measure his humiliation.

"I am but a poor man, Excellency," he sighed again.

Upon Marishka's wrist was a bracelet set with diamonds. She slipped it off quickly and handed it to him.

"You are a poor man," she said. "I give you this--for Yeva."

"Ah, yes. For Yeva." But his eyes were regarding the bracelet, which he was weighing in his hand.

"And if you do what I wish, I shall give you fifteen thousand _kroner_ more."

"Fifteen thou----!" he whispered. "Excellency, a fortune----"

"If you do what I wish----"

"Anything--Excellency has but to speak."

Marishka deliberated a moment and then, "You will first remove the guard at the foot of the private stairway to this----"

"Excellency, the hour is late. If you can be comfortable in my house until the morning, all shall be arranged. For tonight I have planned----"

"No. It must be as I wish. You will also take a message addressed to Mr.

Hugh Renwick at the Hotel Europa, and find him----"

"And he will give me money?" the man broke in quickly, his bony fingers clutching like talons at the bracelet. "He will give me fifteen thousand _kroner_?"

Marishka hesitated. The price she had mentioned was cheap for her liberty--for freedom from the fear that had all day obsessed her, but it was a large sum, and one which it might be impossible to procure at this time of night.

"He will give you such assurances as you may require. At least he will give you something. I shall write that I need this sum of money, and he will surely do what he can."

"Something--yes," he mused. "Something is, of course, better than nothing at all. But how can I be certain that I shall see him?"

"Ah, but you must, Effendi. It is necessary for you, to find him--and at once."

"But if he should refuse?"

"He will not. Do you consent?"

He salaamed deeply.

"Excellency's wish is my law."

So Marishka sat before the tabourette and wrote:

I have promised the bearer of this note fifteen thousand _kroner_, as the condition of my liberation. Give him what you can, and arrange for the payment of the balance tomorrow. This is the cry of desperation. _Do not come here or attempt to see me._ It is dangerous. I will come to you.

M.

She sealed the note and handed it to him. He turned it over and over in his fingers, his gaze aslant.

"But suppose," he repeated slowly, "that I should not be able to find him."

"You must," she said with desperate hardihood. "If the note should not reach him, the conditions of our agreement change. And be sure of this, Effendi--if harm comes to Hugh Renwick, payment will be exacted from you to the tenth part of a hair. His safety and my freedom----"

"I do not comprehend," said the man, his brows raised in a well-simulated surprise. "What have I to do with the safety of this Excellency? He can be in no danger, here in Bosna-Seraj. We are a peaceable people----"

"Still--" she said distinctly, "you will remember."

He shrugged and took a pace away from her, still fingering the note.

"I do not comprehend," he repeated. "But I will do as you request. I shall go at once," and he moved toward the door, then paused. "As to the guard at the door below, that will not be necessary, since you will await me in the _mabein_." He went quickly down the corridor, opened the door of the _dutap_, and called Zubeydeh, who entered at once. "The Countess will wait in the outer room. When I return I shall conduct her to the Hotel Europa, where she will spend the night. You will wait upon her in the meanwhile, as becomes a distinguished guest of the house of Rataj."

Then followed a phrase or two of Turkish, and the woman bowed stolidly.

"It shall be as you wish, Effendi."

And he passed the woman with another phrase, and was gone.

Zubeydeh and Marishka stood facing each other, the elder woman in sullen antipathy, illy concealed by the habitual mask of imperturbability.

Marishka had disliked her from the first, actuated by that rare instinct which only women can employ, and now there seemed something ominous in her stolid ugliness. Marishka had not fully understood the instructions of the Beg, and not until Zubeydeh picked up her suitcase and carried it down the corridor, did she realize that she was merely carrying out the orders of her master. But Marishka did not move. Before her eyes danced the words of her earlier note to Hugh, which asked him to come to her by the private passage to the court below. If the Effendi did not succeed in finding him, he would come; and she would not be there to meet him.

Instead of following Zubeydeh, who had returned and stood staring at her, her feet refused to obey.

"But I should prefer to remain here----" she said firmly.

A vestige of a smile--slight, but none the less disagreeable--came into the woman's yellow face.

"The Harim," she said dryly, "is intended for the daughters of the faithful. You cannot stay tonight."