Then, when Gloria had said the last prayer: 

“What next, Kagig?” Will demanded.

Kagig was going to answer, but thought better of it and strode away in the lead, we following.  He did not stop until we reached the open and the smoking ruins of the castle walls.  When he stopped: 

“Has any one seen Peter Measel?” I asked.

“Forget him!” growled Will.

“Why?” demanded Maga.  “Will you bury him in that same hole with them two?”

“Has any one seen him?” I asked again, uncertain why I asked, but curious and insistent.

“Sure!” said Maga.  “Yes.  Me I seen ’im.  I keel ’im—­so—­with a knife—­las’ night!  You not believe?”

Whether we believed or not, the news surprised us, and we waited in silence for an explanation.

“You not believe?  Why not?  That dog!  ’E make of me a dam-fool!  ’E tell me about God.  ‘E say God is angry with Zeitoon, an’ Kagig is as good as a dead man, an’ I shall take advantage.  ’E ’ope ’e marry me.  I ’ope if Kagig die I marry Will Yerkees, but I agree with Measel, making pretend, an’ ’e run away to talk ’is fool secrets with the Turks.  Then I make my own arrangements!  But Mahmoud is not succeeding, and I like Kagig better after all.  An’ then last night in the darkness Peter Measel he is coming on a ’orse with Mahmoud because Mahmoud is not trusting him out of sight.  An’ I see him, an’ ‘e see me, an’ ‘e call me, an’ I go to ’im through all the fighting, an’ ’e get off the ‘orse an’ reach out ’is arms to me, an’ I keel ‘im with my knife—­so!  An’ now you know all about it!”

“What next?” Will demanded dryly.

“Next?” said Kagig.  “You effendim make your escape!  The Turks will surely seek to be revenged on you.  I will show you a way across the mountains into Persia.”

“And you?” I asked.

“Into hiding!” he answered grimly.  “Maga—­little Maga, she shall come with me, and teach me more about the earth and sky and wind and water!  Perhaps at last some day she shall make me—­no, never a king, but a sportman.”

“Come with us,” said Will.  “Come to the States.”

“No, no, effendi.  I know my people.  They are good folk.  They mistrust me now, and if I were to stay among them where they could see me and accuse me, and where the Turks could make a peg of me on which to hang mistrust, I should be a source of weakness to them.  Nevertheless, I am ever the Eye of Zeitoon!  I shall go into hiding, and watch!  There will come an hour again—­infallibly—­when the Turks will seek to blot out the last vestige of Armenia.  If I hide faithfully, and watch well, by that time I shall be a legend among my people, and when I appear again in their desperation they will trust me.”

Will met Gloria’s eyes in silence for a moment.

“I’ve a mind to stay with you, Kagig, and lend a hand,” he said at last.

“Nay, nay, effendi!”