THE WOMAN'S VOICE
half an hour he entered his tent, more composed, and made the young minstrel sit by him.
"I do not quite understand thee, my boy, nor thy tales about ginii and sprites. But listen to me. I have a word of warning for thee.
"Thou knowest too little or too much, my child. Thy tongue might be cut out for uttering elsewhere what thou hast said to me to-night, and someone's head might fall. Forget the idle tale of an Eastern Chief inside the palace Zenana. No man on earth hath orders to enter those precincts save the Emperor and his sons. And forget the romance about sprites vanishing in smoke. Such idle stories have cost their narrators dear before now.
"An Eastern Chief wounded in battle came to the outer fort, and was nursed by the Tartar girl thou speakest of. She is an honest girl, brave and true, and if the palace slaves have told tales against her, forget them, for they are lies.
"The Tartar girl sighed for her freedom, and the Eastern Chief helped her, as he would help any woman in distress. That was all; the rest of what they said of her is fable.
"I care not, boy, if thou knowest it, for it is known to others—the Eastern Chief who helped Jelekha is myself."
The boy hung on his master's words like one rapt, and then spoke with evident emotion. "I trust you, Master, for truth is writ on your forehead and rings in your words. I will never believe you could be false to man or to woman."
"Thou speakest of things thou dost not understand, my child, but thy words are grateful to my
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