“No; I visited him to question him about the Eye of Jobu.” “Well?” “He denied ever having had it in his possession,” replied the princess. “You believed him, of course?” “No, uncle; he lied.” Ajeeb looked at her in surprise. He had expected she would have endeavored to exculpate the explorer. “Did you tell him he lied?” “Yes.” “What then?” “He persisted in his denial; I offered him pay for the services he had rendered me, and he refused the money.” “Good! I find, after all, that you are a worthy daughter of your race.” “I would not throw aside my belief for any mortal living.” “Zulima, there is but one course open to me in this matter.” “I understand.” “What do you understand?” “Stolburst must be captured, and tortured into giving up the Eye of Jobu.” The beautiful-featured princess spoke as calmly as if she was discussing some every-day topic. Away down in her heart, however, there raged a war of conflicting feelings. Try as she might to disabuse her mind of the fact, she had grown to love Stolburst. “Zulima,” said Ajeeb, “you now talk so sensibly that it seems incredible to me this man should so have blinded you that you deserted your people without regret.” “I shall go back to Abyssinia when I am old and ugly.” “When you are old and ugly?” repeated Ajeeb, in surprise. “Yes; then no one will want to marry me, prince or else.” “But you should marry the young son of King John.” “I shall never marry.” Zulima had kept her feelings from betraying themselves up to this time. Now she burst into a flood of tears. “My child,” said Ajeeb, in kinder tones than he had yet used, “you have some secret sorrow; let me share it with you.” “No; it is nothing.” “Then why do you weep?” “Because this man is so foolish for himself,” replied Zulima. Ajeeb frowned. It was plain to him that she had conceived more than a passing affection for the explorer. This was exceedingly displeasing to him, but he judged it better not to speak of it. “The man is a vandal,” said Ajeeb; “he knows what to expect, and has a chance to save himself. Now, let his punishment be upon his own head. I will not go home without the Eye of Jobu.” “Perhaps,” said Zulima, “were I to see him again, I might obtain it.” “No; with the grasping avarice of his race, he thinks he can retain the diamond. The fool! Were he to throw it in the ocean, one day or another it would be found by a priest of Jobu.” “Perhaps he has lost it?” “No; in that case, he would have so informed me.” “He may think you would not believe him,” said the girl. “Neither should I,” remarked Ajeeb. “Now, Zulima, you know where to find me?” “Yes, uncle.” “Well, before you go, I want you to promise not to again visit this vandal.” “I promise.” “Good! You have plenty of money?” said Ajeeb. “Yes.” “Good! Should you want more, call upon me.” “I have enough to live upon in splendor, if I so choose.”