"Do you believe in a God? or stay--do you know what a sacred oath is? Can you swear solemnly? Yes, yes. . ." and drawing herself up as tall as possible she went on very seriously: "Swear by your bride Mandane--as truly as you believe that she loves you. . ." "But, sweet soul...." "Swear that you will never betray to a living soul what I am going to say--not even to Mother Joanna and Pulcheria; no, nor even to your Mandane, unless you find you cannot help it and she gives her sacred word...." "What is it? You quite frighten me! What am I to swear?" "Not to reveal what I am now going to tell you." "Yes, yes, little Mistress; I can promise you that." Mary sighed, a long-drawn "Ah ...!" and told him that a trustworthy messenger must be found to go forth to meet Amru, so as to be in time to save Paula. Then came the question whether he knew the road over the hills from Babylon to the ancient town of Berenice; and when he replied that he had lately travelled that way, and that it was the shortest road to the sea for Djidda and Medina, she repeated her satisfied "Ah!" took his hand, and went on with coaxing but emphatic entreaty while she played with his big fingers: "And now, best and kindest Rustem, in all Memphis there is but one really trusty messenger; but he, you see, is betrothed, and so he would rather get married and go home with his bride than help us to save the life of poor Paula." "The cur!" growled the Persian. At this Mary laughed out: "Yes, the cur!" and went on gaily: "But you are abusing yourself, you stupid Rustem. You, you are the messenger I mean, the only faithful and trustworthy one far or near. You, you must meet the governor...." "I!" said the man, and he stood still with amazement; but Mary pulled him onward, saying: "But come on, or the others will notice something.-- Yes, you, you must...." "But child, child," interrupted Rustem lamentably, "I must go back to my master; and you see, common right and justice...." "You do not choose to leave your sweetheart; not even if the kind creature who watched over you day and night should die for it--die the most cruel and horrible death! You were ready enough to call that other, as you supposed, a cur--that other whom no one nursed till he was well again; but as for yourself. . . ." "Have patience then! Hear me, little Mistress!" Rustem broke in again, and pulled away his hand. "I am quite willing to wait and Mandane must just submit. But one man is not good for all tasks. To ride, or guide a train of merchandise, to keep the cameldrivers in order, to pitch a camp- --all that I can do; but to parley with grand folks, to go straight up to such a man as the great chief Amru with prayers and supplications--all that, you see, sweetheart--even if it were to save my own father, that would be...." "But who asks you to do all that?" said the child. "You may stand as mute as a fish: it will be your companion's business to do the talking."