“Yes, I was a doctor there, as well as a slave; and I was valued and trusted by my Rajah. But I wanted my freedom. I planned to buy my freedom, that I might no longer be called ‘slave’. And then Fidá was brought thither. The Rajah, returning from war in the north, brought back a noble captive who was made royal cup-bearer, and afterwards raised to high favor in the palace. But Fidá loved. Ha! He loved a woman of the zenana—not a slave, mind, but a wife, and the _favorite_ wife. And she loved him also. And because I guarded a door of the zenana by night, he gave me the ruby to open the door to him. And I, hoping by it to buy my freedom, accepted it, knowing that it was the life of his race.” “This man—his name,” suggested Oman, trembling a little. “His name?—I have said it,—Fidá el-Asra. That was his name; and the gem was the gem of the Asra. When he gave it away, he became cursed; and the evil fell on all of us. For many weeks I sanctioned the crime in the zenana: for months played I traitor to my Rajah, for the sake of the ruby, and because I loved Fidá and Ahalya, and because they were happy together. Then at last the slave fell sick of a sickness that would not be cured, though I even returned the ruby to him to be worn, in order that he might be well again. But it could not help him then; and he gave it back to me. “It was spring. I hoped daily for the coming of a certain merchant to whom I would sell the ruby for the price of my freedom. But alas! freedom and vengeance came upon me together, without the selling of the stone. There was a new war. Rai-Khizar-Pál marched away, leaving his favorite slave to be guardian of the young lord Bhavani, his son. Then, in the fair April, it fell upon us:—death! death! death!