My hand was stretched out as I spoke, but it remained untouched for a few moments. "It will not be a friendly grasp," he said coldly. "Indeed it will," I cried; "for you have saved those who love me from a terrible time of sorrow." "Those who love you?" he said, taking my hand and holding it. "Yes; mother, father, sister." "Ah, yes," he said; "of course. You have friends at home in England?" "No: here," I said. He did not speak for a few moments, and still retaining my hand, sank down cross-legged on the carpet close to my pillow, gazing at me thoughtfully. Then, with the smile coming back to light up his face in a way which made me forget he was a deadly enemy, he said cheerfully-- "I am glad to see this. I knew you were better, and now you must grow strong quickly." He held my hand still, and let the other glide on my arm, shaking his head the while. "This will not do," he continued. "You always were slight and boyish, but the strength has gone from your arm, and your cheeks are all sunken and white." "Yes, I am very weak," I said faintly, and with a bitter feeling of misery at my helplessness. "Of course. Such wounds as yours would have killed many strong men. It was a terribly keen cut. The wonder is that it did not take off your arm. As it is, you nearly bled to death." "Don't talk about it," I said, with a slight shudder; "it is healing now, and after lying so long thinking, I want to forget my wounds." "Of course. Let us talk about something else. Tell me," he said gently, "do your servants attend you well?" "Yes; they do everything I could wish for." "Is there anything you want? I have been a long time without coming." "Yes," I said; but hesitated to make the request that rose to my lips, and deferred it for the moment; "where have you been?" His eyes brightened, and he gave me a curious look. Then, gravely-- "Fighting." I winced, for his manner suggested that he had been successful, and I knew what that meant. "Don't look like that," he said kindly. "You are a soldier, and know that only one side can win. You and yours have carried all before you for many years; it is our turn now." "But only for a little while," I said quietly. "You must be beaten in the end." "Indeed!" he said, frowning, but turning it off with a laugh. "Oh no; we carry everything before us now, and we shall be free once more." My brows knit, and I tried to say something, but only words which I felt would anger him seemed to come to my lips, and after watching me, he smiled. "You do not agree with me, of course?" he said. "How could you? But you did not tell me if there was anything you wanted," he continued pleasantly. I looked in his eyes, then my own wandered over him and his dress; and as he sat there by my pillow, looking every inch an Eastern king, the scene once more suggested some passage out of the "Arabian Nights," and there was an unreality about it that closed my lips.