"That was because I did not know him, and still less the sad state into which you have thrown him by your behavior. I swear to you he is innocent--you have nothing to forgive in him--he has much to forgive in you." "Hush!" whispered the Carmelite, "we are watched here; away from this." She replaced her mask, stood up, and placing her arm within that of the supposed Prince, they crossed the hall and entered a side-room. The Countess uttered many bitter complaints against the Chamberlain, but they were the complaints of jealous love. The Countess was in tears, when the tender Brahmin soon after came timidly into the apartment. There was a deep silence among the three. Philip, not knowing how to conclude his intercession better, led the Brahmin to the Carmelite, and joined their hands together, without saying a word, and left them to fate. He himself returned into the hall. IV. Here he was hastily addressed by a Mameluke: "I'm glad I have met you, Domino. Is the Rose-girl in the side-room?" The Mameluke rushed into it, but returned in a moment evidently disappointed. "One word alone with you, Domino," he said, and led Philip into a window recess in a retired part of the hall. "What do you want?" asked Philip. "I beseech you," replied the Mameluke, in a subdued yet terrible voice, "where is the Rose-girl?" "What is the Rose-girl to me?" "But to me she is everything!" answered the Mameluke, whose suppressed voice and agitated demeanor showed that a fearful struggle was going on within. "To me she is everything. She is my wife. You make me wretched, Prince! I conjure you drive me not to madness. Think of my wife no more!" "With all my heart," answered Philip, dryly; "what have I to do with your wife?" "O Prince, Prince!" exclaimed the Mameluke, "I have made a resolve which I shall execute if it cost me my life. Do not seek to deceive me a moment longer. I have discovered everything. Here! look at this! 'tis a note my false wife slipped into your hand, and which you dropped in the crowd, without having read." Philip took the note. 'T was written in pencil, and in a fine delicate hand: "Change your mask. Everybody knows you. My husband watches you. He does not know me. If you obey me, I will reward you." "Hem!" muttered Philip. "As I live, this was not written to me. I don't trouble my head about your wife." "Death and fury, Prince! do not drive me mad! Do you know who it is that speaks to you? I am the Marshal Blankenswerd. Your advances to my wife are not unknown to me, ever since the last rout at the palace." "My Lord Marshal," answered Philip, "excuse me for saying that jealousy has blinded you. If you knew me well, you would not think of accusing me of such folly. I give you my word of honor I will never trouble your wife." "Are you in earnest, Prince?" "Entirely." "Give me a proof of this?" "Whatever you require."