burn the very air. The eyes of a hawk gleaming on its prey,--the
eyes of a famished tiger in the dark, were less fraught with
terrific meaning than the eyes of Ziska as she listened
attentively to the on-coming footsteps through the outside
corridor which told her that Gervase was near.

"At last!" she whispered, "at last!" The next moment the Nubian
flung the door wide open and announced "Monsieur Armand Gervase!"

She advanced with all the wonderful grace which distinguished her,
holding out both her slim, soft hands. Gervase caught them in his
own and kissed them fervently, whereupon the Nubian retired,
closing the door after him.

"You are very welcome, Monsieur Gervase," said the Princess then,
speaking with a measured slowness that was attractive as well as
soothing to the ear. "You have left all the dear English people
well at the Gezireh Palace? Lady Fulkeward was not too tired after
her exertions at the ball? And you?"

But Gervase was gazing at her in a speechless confusion of mind
too great for words. A sudden, inexplicable emotion took
possession of him,--an emotion to which he could give no name, but
which stupefied him and held him mute. Was it her beauty which so
dazzled his senses? Was it some subtle perfume in the room that
awoke a dim haunting memory? Or what was it that seemed so
strangely familiar? He struggled with himself, and finally spoke
out his thought:

"I have seen you before, Princess; I am quite sure I have! I