So I rose from my chair and knelt before her, hoping secretly that no one would see me in that ridiculous position, which the most unsuspicious might misinterpret. I admit, however, that it proved to have compensations, since even through the veil I saw her marvellous eyes better than I had done before, and something of the pure outline of her classic face; also the fragrance of her hair was wonderful.

She took the talisman in her hand and examined it closely.

“I have heard of this charm and it is true that the thing has power,” she said, “for I can feel it running through my veins, also that it is a shield of defence to him who wears it. Yes, and now I understand what perplexed me somewhat, namely, how it came about that when you vexed me into unveiling—but let that matter be. The wisdom was not your own, but another’s, that is all. Yes, the wisdom of one whose years have borne him beyond the shafts that fly from woman’s eyes, the ruinous shafts which bring men down to doom and nothingness. Tell me, Allan, is this the likeness of him who gave it to you?”

“Yes, Ayesha, the very picture, as I think, carved by himself, though he said that it is ancient, and others tell that it has been known in the land for centuries.”

“So perchance has he,” she answered drily, “since some of our company live long. Now tell me this wizard’s names. Nay, wait awhile for I would prove that indeed you are his messenger with whom I may talk about the dead, and other things, Allan. You can read Arabic, can you not?”

“A little,” I answered.

Then from a stool at her side she took paper, or rather papyrus and a reed pen, and on her knee wrote something on the sheet which she gave to me folded up.

“Now tell me the names,” she said, “and then let us see if they tally with what I have written, for if so you are a true man, not a mere wanderer or a spy.”

“The principal names of this doctor are Zikali, the Opener-of-Roads, the ‘Thing-that-should-never-have-been-born,’” I answered.

“Read the writing, Allan,” she said.

I unfolded the sheet and read Arabic words which meant, “Weapons, Cleaver-of-Rocks, One-at-whom-dogs-bark-and-children-wail.”

“The last two are near enough,” she said, “but the first is wrong.”

“Nay, Ayesha, since in this man’s tongue the word ‘Zikali’ means ‘Weapons’”; intelligence at which she clapped her hands as a merry girl might do. “The man,” I went on, “is without doubt a great doctor, one who sees and knows things that others do not, but I do not understand why this token carved in his likeness should have power, as you say it has.”

“Because with it goes his spirit, Allan. Have you never heard of the Egyptians, a very wise people who, as I remember, declared that man has a Ka or Double, a second self, that can either dwell in his statue or be sent afar?”

I answered that I had heard this.

“Well the Ka of this Zikali goes with that hideous image of him, which is perhaps why you have come safe through many dangers and why also I seemed to dream so much of him last night. Tell me now, what does Zikali want of me whose power he knows very well?”

“An oracle, the answer to a riddle, Ayesha.”

“Then set it out another time. So you decide to see the dead, and this old dwarf, who is a home of wisdom, desires an oracle from one who is greater than he. Good. And what are you, or both of you, prepared to pay for these boons? Know, Allan, that I am a merchant who sells my favours dear. Tell me then, will you pay?”

“I think that it depends upon the price,” I answered cautiously. “Set out the price, Ayesha.”

“Be not afraid, O cunning dealer,” she mocked. “I do not ask your soul or even that love of yours which you guard so jealously, since these things I could take without the asking. Nay, I ask only what a brave and honest man may give without shame: your help in war, and perhaps,” she added with a softer tone, “your friendship. I think, Allan, that I like you well, perhaps because you remind me of another whom I knew long ago.”