Instantly the Shaman’s cunning old face became like a mask of ivory.

“Surely you had better ask your favours of the lady herself, lord; I do not think that any in reason will be refused to you,” he replied.

“Let us stop fencing,” said Leo, “and consider the facts.  It has seemed to me that the Khania Atene is not happy with her husband.”

“Your eyes are very keen, lord, and who shall say that they have deceived you?”

“It has seemed, further,” went on Leo, reddening, “that she has been so good as to look on me with—­some undeserved regard.”

“Ah! perhaps you guessed that in the Gate-house yonder, if you have not forgotten what most men would remember.”

“I remember certain things, Simbri, that have to do with her and you.”

The Shaman only stroked his beard and said:  “Proceed!”

“There is little to add, Simbri, except that I am not minded to bring scandal on the name of the first lady in your land.”

“Nobly said, lord, nobly said, though here they do not trouble much about such things.  But how if the matter could be managed without scandal?  If, for instance, the Khania chose to take another husband the whole land would rejoice, for she is the last of her royal race.”

“How can she take another husband when she has one living?”

“True; indeed that is a question which I have considered, but the answer to it is that men die.  It is the common lot, and the Khan has been drinking very heavily of late.”

“You mean that men can be murdered,” said Leo angrily.  “Well, I will have nothing to do with such a crime.  Do you understand me?”

As the words passed his lips I heard a rustle and turned my head.  Behind us were curtains beyond which the Shaman slept, kept his instruments of divination and worked out his horoscopes.  Now they had been drawn, and between them, in her royal array, stood the Khania still as a statue.

“Who was it that spoke of crime?” she asked in a cold voice.  “Was it you, my lord Leo?”

Rising from his chair, he faced her and said—­“Lady, I am glad that you have heard my words, even if they should vex you.”

“Why should it vex me to learn that there is one honest man in this court who will have naught to do with murder?  Nay, I honour you for those words.  Know also that no such foul thoughts have come near to me.  Yet, Leo Vincey, that which is written—­is written.”

“Doubtless, Khania; but what is written?”

“Tell him, Shaman.”

Now Simbri passed behind the curtain and returned thence with a roll from which he read:  “The heavens have declared by their signs infallible that before the next new moon, the Khan Rassen will lie dead at the hands of the stranger lord who came to this country from across the mountains.”

“Then the heavens have declared a lie,” said Leo contemptuously.

“That is as you will,” answered Atene; “but so it must befall, not by my hand or those of my servants, but by yours.  And then?”