Theodora gave an inscrutable smile that imparted to her features a singular softness and beauty, as a ray of sunlight falling on a dark picture will brighten the tints with a momentary warmth of seeming life. "I was told," she spoke slowly, as if trying to overcome an inward dread, "that you are known in Rome chiefly as being the possessor of some mysterious internal force which, though invisible, is manifest to all who place themselves under your spell! Is it not so?" The Persian bowed slightly. "It may be that I have furnished the Romans with something to talk about besides the weather; that I have made a few friends, and an amazing number of enemies--" "The latter argues in your favor," Theodora interposed. "They say, furthermore, that by this same force you are enabled to disentangle the knots of perplexity that burden the overtaxed brain." Hormazd nodded again and the sinister gleam of his eyes did not escape Theodora's watchful gaze. "If this be so," the woman continued, "if you are not an impostor who exhibits his tricks for the delectation of the rabble, or for sordid gain--exert your powers upon me, for something, I know not what, has frozen up the once overflowing fountain of life." The Oriental regarded her intently. "You have the wish to be deluded--even into an imaginary happiness?" Theodora gave a start. "You have expressed what I but vaguely hinted. It may be that I am tired"--she passed her hand across her brow with a troubled gesture--"or puzzled by some infinite distress of living things. Perchance I am going mad--who knows? But, whatever the cause, you, if report be true, possess the skill to ravish the mind away from its trouble, to transport it to a radiant Elysium of illusions and ecstasies. Do this for me, as you have done it for another, and, whatever payment you demand, it shall be yours!" She ceased. Faintly through the silence came the chimes of convent bells from the remote regions of the Aventine, pealing through the fragrant summer night above the deep boom of distant thunder that seemed to come as from the bowels of the earth. Hormazd gave his interrogator a swift, searching glance, half of pity, half of disdain. "The great eastern drug should serve your turn," he replied sardonically. "I know of no other means wherewith to stifle the voice of conscience." Theodora flushed darkly. "Conscience?" she flashed in resentful accents. The Persian nodded. "There is such a thing. Do you profess to be without one?" Theodora's eyes endeavored to pierce the inscrutable mask before her. The ironical curtness of the question annoyed her. "Your opinion of me does little honor to your wisdom," she said after a pause. "A foul wound festers equally beneath silk and sack-cloth," came the dark reply. "How know you that I desire relief from this imaginary malady?" The Oriental gave a shrug.