"In God's name, who are you, and what are you doing here? Where did you
go this evening? I missed you. Ah! unhappy man that I am, you will drive
me crazy!"
She did not smile now, but pressed close to him.
"I am a prisoner--like yourself," she replied simply.
"A prisoner! How a prisoner? I am not a prisoner, but an envoy from my
king to the sick princeling."
She sighed.
"The poor, mad prince," she said, "he is in need of your medicine,
sadly. He sent for me a year ago, and I am now his prisoner for life."
"But I saw you on the train, a day's journey hence," interrupted the
musician.
"Yes, I had escaped, and was being taken back by black Hamet when we
met."
Pobloff whistled. So the mystery was disclosed. A little white slave
from the seraglio of this embryo tyrant had flown the cage! No wonder
she was watched, little surprise that she did not care to eat. He
straightened himself, the hair on his round head like porcupine quills.
"My dear young lady," he exclaimed in accents paternal, "leave all to
me. If you do not wish to stay in this place, you may rely on me.
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