"Then, one day--it was actually my nineteenth birthday--Chunda Lal presented himself and told me that I was to have an interview with Fo-Hi. Hearing these words, I nearly swooned, for a hundred times during the years of my strange luxurious captivity I had awakened trembling in the night, thinking that the figure of the awful veiled Chinaman had entered the room. "You must understand that having spent my childhood in a _harem,_ the mode of life which I was compelled to follow in Cairo was not so insufferable as it must have been for a European woman. Neither was my captivity made unduly irksome. I often drove through the European quarters, always accompanied by Chunda Lal, and closely veiled, and I regularly went shopping in the bazaars--but never alone. The death of my mother--and later that of my father, of which Chunda Lal had told me--were griefs that time had dulled. But the horror of Fo-Hi was one which lived with me, day and night. "To a wing of the palace kept closely locked, and which I had never seen opened, I was conducted by Chunda Lal. There, in a room of a kind with which was part library and part _mandarah,_ part museum and part laboratory, I found the veiled man seated at a great littered table. As I stood trembling before him he raised a long yellow hand and waved to Chunda Lal to depart. When he obeyed and I heard the door close I could scarcely repress a shriek of terror. "For what seemed an interminable time he sat watching me. I dared not look at him, but again I felt his gaze passing over me like a flame. Then he began to speak, in French, which he spoke without a trace of accent. "He told me briefly that my life of idleness had ended and that a new life of activity in many parts of the world was about to commence. His manner was quite unemotional, neither harsh nor kindly, his metallic voice conveyed no more than the bare meaning of the words which he uttered. When, finally, he ceased speaking, he struck a gong which hung from a corner of the huge table, and Chunda Lal entered. "Fo-Hi addressed a brief order to him in Hindustani--and a few moments later a second Chinaman walked slowly into the room." Miska paused, as if to collect her ideas, but continued almost immediately. "He wore a plain yellow robe and had a little black cap on his head. His face, his wonderful evil face I can never forget, and his eyes--I fear you will think I exaggerate--but his eyes were green as emeralds! He fixed them upon me. "'This,' said Fo-Hi, 'is Miska.' "The other Chinaman continued to regard me with those dreadful eyes; then: "'You have chosen well.' he said, turned and slowly went out again.