But I was deeply anxious to save Ustane, whom I liked and respected, from the dire fate that overshadowed her at the hands of her mighty rival.  So I made one more appeal.

“Ayesha,” I said, “thou art too subtle for me; but thou thyself hast told me that each man should be a law unto himself, and follow the teaching of his heart.  Hath thy heart no mercy towards her whose place thou wouldst take?  Bethink thee—­as thou sayest—­though to me the thing is incredible—­he whom thou desirest has returned to thee after many ages, and but now thou hast, as thou sayest also, wrung him from the jaws of death.  Wilt thou celebrate his coming by the murder of one who loved him, and whom perchance he loved—­one, at the least, who saved his life for thee when the spears of thy slaves would have made an end thereof?  Thou sayest also that in past days thou didst grievously wrong this man, that with thine own hand thou didst slay him because of the Egyptian Amenartas whom he loved.”

“How knowest thou that, oh stranger?  How knowest thou that name?  I spoke it not to thee,” she broke in with a cry, catching at my arm.

“Perchance I dreamed it,” I answered; “strange dreams do hover about these caves of Kor.  It seems that the dream was, indeed, a shadow of the truth.  What came to thee of thy mad crime?—­two thousand years of waiting, was it not?  And now wouldst thou repeat the history?  Say what thou wilt, I tell thee that evil will come of it; for to him who doeth, at the least, good breeds good and evil evil, even though in after days out of evil cometh good.  Offences must needs come; but woe to him by whom the offence cometh.  So said that Messiah of whom I spoke to thee, and it was truly said.  If thou slayest this innocent woman, I say unto thee that thou shalt be accursed, and pluck no fruit from thine ancient tree of love.  Also, what thinkest thou?  How will this man take thee red-handed from the slaughter of her who loved and tended him?”

“As to that,” she answered, “I have already answered thee.  Had I slain thee as well as her, yet should he love me, Holly, because he could not save himself from therefrom any more than thou couldst save thyself from dying, if by chance I slew thee, oh Holly.  And yet maybe there is truth in what thou dost say; for in some way it presseth on my mind.  If it may be, I will spare this woman; for have I not told thee that I am not cruel for the sake of cruelty?  I love not to see suffering, or to cause it.  Let her come before me—­quick now, before my mood changes,” and she hastily covered her face with its gauzy wrapping.

Well pleased to have succeeded even to this extent, I passed out into the passage and called to Ustane, whose white garment I caught sight of some yards away, huddled up against one of the earthenware lamps that were placed at intervals along the tunnel.  She rose, and ran towards me.

“Is my lord dead?  Oh, say not he is dead,” she cried, lifting her noble-looking face, all stained as it was with tears, up to me with an air of infinite beseeching that went straight to my heart.