Magicians, jugglers, the musicians of Persia and Kurdistan, every pigmy deformity, every curious object which traversed the pachalick, was, at a word from her, admitted into the palace. She arrived at this logical conclusion, that if she desired to visit and traverse Shivas, it was in the hope of finding there again the unknown, of finding the key of the mysteries which surrounded her; and this unknown was certainly the only one of the curiosities of the city, to which Djezzar would refuse permission to enter his harem for the diversion of the favorite. But could not another make the discovery for Baïla? She thought at once of Mariam. The latter, who was a partial purchaser of provisions for the harem; freed by her employment, her age, and her color, from the ordinary ceremonial, she traversed the streets and market-places at pleasure. Baïla knew her devotion to her person, and should she refuse to serve her in her researches, she knew that the old negress would not betray her. She spoke to her then about it. The Abyssinian seized with a sudden trembling, exclaimed, “By the Holy Christ! do not repeat those words, my dear mistress; resist the temptation, stifle it in your heart; it is an inspiration of the Evil Spirit, or, perhaps, a purpose of Providence, perhaps an inspiration from on high,” she murmured in a low voice, as if apostrophizing herself. “You will have nothing to fear, Mariam; of what crime will you be guilty, for endeavoring to make some inquiries about this stranger? It is well known that old women are curious.” “Young ones are no less so,” she replied, casting a reproachful glance at her, “and their curiosity draws more perils after it. Our holy mother, Eve, was young when—” “Then you refuse to serve me?” “This time I do; do not exact it, do not insist upon it. I have already had so much to struggle against on the other side.” “How?” “This young Frank. He is born to be your destruction and mine. But no; if you knew—” “You know him then? Are you dreaming?” “Have I spoken of that? By the black angel I hope it is nothing.” “Thou wert about to betray thyself; hast thou seen him?” “Ah! my dear mistress do not destroy me,” exclaimed the old slave, trembling with fright. “Yes, I have seen him to my misfortune.” “Well, who is he? What keeps him at Shivas? What does he want? What does he hope for? What are his plans?” “Is it for me to inform you? In the name of the God of the Christians, who has been yours and is still mine, cease to question me. If our master should only discover that this young man has penetrated here into the gardens, I know that I should be put to death. I should be cut to pieces and thrown to feed the fish in the ponds.” “But he shall not know it. Thou hast nothing to fear, I tell thee; am not I here to protect thee?” “But thee? Who will protect thee?” “What matters it? Then you know this stranger? Thou hast met him, and hast told me nothing of it?”