Churi, however, turned on him a solemn look. “Truly thou hast little regard for the life of the ‘kindly one’. Knowest thou not the penalty for a guardian that sleeps?” Once again Fidá sprang to his feet. “Name of Allah, man, why hast thou brought this message then? Was it to drive me mad? Am I a fool to be mocked at? What meanest thou?” Churi’s color changed perceptibly. “I mock thee not,” he said, in a voice that rang untrue. “I mock thee not. Behold, thou demandest of me my safety, my fidelity, my life. Is that so small a thing to ask—as a gift?” “A gift! Ah! I see.” Fidá’s head sank upon his breast, and, for a moment, he was lost in thought. Then, looking Churi straight in the eyes, he said: “I am a slave—thou knowest that. What wilt thou have of me? Wilt thou take my life when once I have done the bidding of—the beloved?” “Thy life is useless to me.” “Killing me, thou couldst save thine honor.” “I am no murderer.” “Then—wait! Wait.” Fidá’s hand flew to his sash. He was not treasureless. Nay, at this moment there was, on his body, a fortune greater than that asked as his ransom. True, it was worth more to him than his freedom. He had been willing to suffer slavery rather than deliver up his race to death. But love!—Ah, the Asra had always held that greater than life. Love was beyond price. Should not the Asra ruby buy him the love that must eventually kill him? Instantly impulse answered that death, after the love of Ahalya, would be as nothing. Yet he waited to weigh the question further; and was met on every hand by reason flanked with love. What promise did life hold out to him:—the dry, lonely, lowering life of the slave? At the end death would come, and the ruby be buried with him, or pass to the conqueror of the alien race. Let him, then, buy a great, brief joy with it, and afterwards a speedy exit from his slavery. Fidá drew forth the golden box, Churi watching him with surprise and interest. Pressing the hidden spring, he let the ruby roll into his palm, and held it out to Churi. “Look,” said he. “Take it into thy hand and look.” The eunuch complied; and, seeing how the wonderful stone gleamed and glowed even here in the shadows, his eyes brightened and his lips twitched. “This is the key to the zenana. Take it, Churi, and unlock the door for me—to-night.” Churi looked up into Fidá’s face, and found there sincerity and earnestness. For a moment he hesitated, considering, counting the cost. At last his eyes fell. “How much is this ruby worth?” he asked, in a low voice. “More than was asked for my ransom.” “Why, then, didst thou not ransom thyself with it?” “It holds in it the fate of the Asra. For her, only, would I surrender it.” “Hath the Rajah seen it?” “Yes, and suffered it to remain with me for the sake of my people.” “How, then, shall I take it from thee?” “Because I give it—freely.”