but did not reply. Indeed, her husband did not seem to expect an answer, for he continued to smoke for some time in silence, with his eyes fixed abstractedly on a tame gazelle—the kitten of the harem—which tried to attract his attention.
"Thou art sad, or anxious, to-night," said Ashweesha, at length breaking silence.
"Both sad and anxious," replied the Dey slowly.
"My position is indeed one of power, but not of comfort or safety."
A shade rested for a moment like a flitting cloud on the face of Ashweesha. Gladly would she have exchanged her high estate, with all its costly and gorgeous array, for a life of humble toil accompanied with peace and security—for she was of gentle nature—but this was denied her.
"Listen," said the Dey, laying aside his pipe and talking earnestly; "it may well chance, as it has happened before, that thy counsel may lighten my care. I am sad because two of my chief officers are snakes in the grass. They are venomous too, and their bite will prove deadly if it be not avoided. Canst thou guess their names, Ashweesha?"
"Sidi Omar and Sidi Hassan," said Ashweesha.
Achmet looked surprised.
"Thou art partly right, though I did not expect thy swift reply. Is it a guess, or hast thou obtained information?"
