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Page 47
"Good! That is the way! Women can always act!" she murmured,
slipping off the divan and drawing her fluttering robes about her.
"But it is very late and I must go--it is not safe to stay so."
"Where is your room? Could I get to you?"
"No--for you cannot open that panel on the inside--unless you can
steal the key from him as I could not! My room--for this present,
little one," and her eyes laughed suddenly in challenge, "is up on
the top--a little old room all alone. My doors are locked, but there
is a panel in my room, too, a panel at the top of tiny stairs, and
the lock on that panel is so old and rusty that a knife make it
open. So I pushed it open and came down the tiny stairs that end out
there in the passage way, and I opened your panel. Now I must steal
back, but I shall come again, and we must plan."
"But where does this secret passage go?" Arlee had followed over the
bed, and held aside the heavy draperies while the little Baroff was
pushing the panel softly and carefully open. Eagerly Arlee peered
out into the darkness beyond. "Where does it go?" she repeated.
"It runs above the hall of banquets and into the _selamlik_,"
whispered the Viennese. "It opens into Hamdi's rooms, he says, and I
know that a servant sleeps always at his door and another is at the
foot of the stairs. So it would be madness to try that way."
But Arlee stared thoughtfully into the secret place. "I am glad I
know," she said.
"Well, good-by, little one." The Viennese was standing outside now,
softly closing the door. For a moment her face remained in the
opening. "You will not tell Hamdi that I came--no?" she demanded
sharply, and then on Arlee's quick reassurance she nodded, whispered
good-by again, and drew back her little face.
The wall rolled into place and a gentle click told of the caught
lock. The curtains fell back over the wall. And Arlee was left
huddling there alone, feeling that it had all been a dream, but for
the heavy scent that lingered in the air and the wild fear beating
in her heart.
CHAPTER IX
A DESPERATE GAME
Very slowly the black night grayed down into a wan, spectral
morning, and slowly the gray morning paled into a dim
mother-of-pearl dawn. And then suddenly the mother-of-pearliness
brightened into a shimmering opal, and the ray of pale gold light
slanted through the barred window and the bright face of new day
peeped over the sill, staring out of countenance the lurking shadows
of the night.
And then Arlee's eyes closed, and the heart which had been beating
like a frightened rabbit's at every sound and shadow steadied into a
rhythm as regular as a clock. She slept like a tired baby; while the
light grew brighter and higher, and reached in over the shining
dressing table, over the white piano, to rest upon the oblivious
face upon the couch and to play with the bright, tangled hair.
The first knocking upon the door did not disturb that sleep, and it
was a long time before the knock was again sounded. Then Arlee heard
and sprang to her feet in a lightning rush of consciousness. It was
Mariayah again, and the water jars which already looked familiar to
her, and after the water jars appeared more roses and with the roses
a letter.
Those roses came, the letter explained, to droop their heads before
her loveliness, which put theirs to shame. They would greet her as
humbler sisters greet a fairer. For they were roses of a day, but
she was the Rose of Life. The capitals were Kerissen's own. And then
abruptly the letter demanded:
Did I frighten you last night? Is it so strange to you
that you have magic to make a man forget all the barriers
of your convention? Do you not know you have an
enchantment which distills in the blood and changes it to
wine? You are the Rose of Life, the Rose of Desire, and
no man can look upon you without longing. But you must
not be angry at me for that, for I am your slave, and
would strew roses always to soften the world for your
little feet.... Fortune has made you my guest. Will you
not smile upon me while Fortune smiles? Luncheon will be
in the garden, for it is cool and fresh today.
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