lips.
Of her own fate, should she be the chosen one, she had no time to think. Breathlessly she ran to fetch her lute, and quickly returned to her place by the window. She had little time. Soon she would be called for the ritual of bathing, perfuming and robing that always took place before the arrival of the Rajah.
She struck the first notes softly. Then the music grew louder, the strain that had been played the night she first saw Boud Ali. She leaned far out the window and threw her clear sweet voice out into the night.
“I, Talfa, sing a song of the Black Adder,” she repeated over and over, then swung into her song:
*
“The Black Adder came to the palace of the King.
Within were jewels for his welcoming.
Only the dancing-girl knew waiting was death’s sting.
The dancing-girl sang, go away, go away—
The King comes merrily to me this day.
Black Adder, Black Adder, do not dare to stay!
Black Adder, Black Adder, creep into your hole,
Another night brings another goal—
Only tonight would you pay the toll!
Black Adder—”
*
Her voice died away as she saw the chief eunuch standing beside her. He laughed a shrill, thin laugh that frayed the edge of her nerve.
“Little fool, to sit in the window and sing of the Black Adder when you should be staining your eyes with kohl to snare your lord with their beauty!”
Her lute fell forgotten on the floor as one tiny hand pressed against her heart as though to still its wild beating.
“Come, my pretty one,” continued the chief eunuch, as he pulled one of her long braids. “By all the Gods, were I a man, you could make me captive by your hair alone!”
Unresisting, she followed him and passively gave herself into the hands of the women. The fatalism of her race had come to her aid. She had done her best. Now all rested upon the knees of the Gods.
* * * *
Later that evening, robed in blue gauze that revealed more than it concealed, with her long hair flowing about her shoulders, she danced with the other girls before the Rajah. Automatically her body moved to the music. Her thoughts were far away, with Boud Ali—hoping.
Suddenly, as the dance brought her near to the couch where the Rajah was lying, she felt the long ends of her hair seized firmly. She stopped writhing and felt herself gently drawn toward the Rajah.
Presently she stood facing him. He held her hair in his firm hands, having pulled it over her shoulder. She felt his eyes pass over her. Somehow she knew fate was upon her and that she would be the chosen one. Trembling, she heard his voice, “Bid the music stop, and send those other girls away.” Then she felt his hands upon her, tearing away her robes.
“With hair like that you need no further covering. Come, dance for me, so; and when the dance is over, if you still please me—and fear not but that you will—you shall be honored with my love.”
With a slight shudder she shook her hair over her, and of a truth it was more concealing than the blue gauze had been. “A Rajah has no love to give a dancing-girl,” she cried, remembering she had only one life to lose.
The Rajah laughed, then his eyes looked into hers. “Perhaps—who knows?—even love! At any rate, tonight you shall be mine. I swear it! Now—dance.”
The music started. Automatically Talfa began to move to its rhythm, and then she started to turn and twist in a series of wild convulsions. Another thought had come to her. Perhaps she could so madden and inflame his senses that he would take her here in this room where they were, and Boud Ali would not be discovered in the summer house, if her song had not been heard.
She danced with a furious abandon such as she had never believed herself capable of. If she had drunk of the most potent of aphrodisiacs she could have put no more into her dance.
At last the music came to an end with a loud crash of cymbals, and she fell exhausted at the Rajah’s feet.
The Rajah detached the golden robe from his shoulders and threw it over her. Then he came and lifted her into his arms.
“I, myself, will carry you to the pavilion,” he cried, his breath coming quickly, his eyes mad with lust.
Two slaves ran before with lighted torches, and the chief eunuch followed behind.
In his arms Talfa lay limply. Soon she would know, and she could hardly bear the suspense. One last effort she would make, for her love’s sake. “My lord, why do we not stay here?”
The Rajah made no answer, only strode rapidly on.
Yet another effort she put forth. “Will you not send the men away?”
This time she met with success. “Have no fear. Tonight is yours alone, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, oh lovely one!”
Talfa almost laughed aloud. For her there would be no more tomorrows. When he discovered that another man had spoiled the fruit for him, she had no doubt what her fate would be, unless she could so madden him—
They had reached the pavilion door. The Rajah turned to the slaves. “Put the torches in place and then go—all of you—and come not near until the sun shines brightly from the heavens.”
When he had been obeyed, he carried her over the threshold. No one was in the marble summer house!
“Praise to the Gods!” whispered Talfa, and the Rajah hearing, misunderstood, and crushed his lips on hers.
Finally he laid her on the crimson couch and drew away the golden robe. The crimson silk brought out the whiteness of her body. She looked like a living statue as she lay before him.
“Gods!” he cried, “but you are beautiful!” and he moved closer toward her.
All thoughts of submission fled from Talfa. Better death than the embraces of this man. Now that Boud Ali was safe, she was no longer afraid.
She struggled frantically. A cruel gleam came into the Rajah’s face, as he pressed her close and sought to force her to comply with his desires.
Just when from sheer exhaustion she could fight no more, she felt the Rajah’s arms loosen their hold, and wide-eyed beheld two hands dragging him to his feet.
Forgetful of herself, she looked up. “Gods!” she exclaimed. “The Black Adder!” For holding the Rajah’s arms tightly behind his back was a man clothed in black from head to toe with a hood over his face that had slits for eyes and mouth.
The Rajah made a desperate struggle to free himself, but he had been caught off guard and was held by hands of iron.
“What do you want?” he cried finally.
Talfa covered herself with the golden robe before the Black Adder spoke. His voice was muffled by the silken hood, but there was strength in it.
“I had sought your life, oh, Rajah of Tawnpore—your life and your jewels. But even an ‘Adder’ can be merciful!”
“My guards will give you no mercy,” threatened the Rajah in a voice from which he tried vainly to hide his fear.
The Black Adder laughed long and hard. “Think you I am named for nothing? Hidden in the bushes, I heard your order and I waited until the guards had surely gone. Not until the sun is high in the heavens will they come. The Rajah has spoken!”
The ruler of Tawnpore bowed his head. When he finally raised it, he spoke shakily, “Your price?”
The black head leaned over close to the Rajah’s. Through the silk, Talfa sensed his eyes upon her and drew her robe closer together over her heaving bosoms.