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CHAPTER VIII A WOMAN’S WAY
 “And now,” the vizier had said to his daughter on the evening of the fourth day, “let us rest content. The sirdar of the tribe of Raab—our faithful ally Zarig—has sent a force to patrol the desert trails over which Dirrag must pass with Ahmed on his return to Mekran. Zarig has sworn that the son of Burah shall never reach here by the seventh day.”  
“That is good,” answered Maie, thoughtfully. “But it is not enough.”
 
Agahr threw out his palms with an impulsive1 gesture.
 
“What would you have?” he asked, impatiently. “I have suborned every servant in the palace; I have followed every plan you have suggested; intrigue2 and cunning each moment battle for our great object.”
 
“Yet the Persian sits beside Burah Khan and baffles our every plot,” replied the girl. “I will go to him myself, my father.”
 
“You! Impossible.”
 
“No one shall ever know but yourself, and you will guard my secret. But see the Persian I must. Despite his pretended loyalty3 he is a mere4 man—and surely there is a way to influence any man that lives.”
 
An hour later Agahr secretly introduced Maie into the palace, and while he himself guarded the passage leading to the chamber5 of Burah the girl boldly pushed aside the draperies at the entrance and confronted the physician.
 
The Persian was standing6 beside the couch as she entered, and after a glance at his visitor he quietly drew a silken coverlet over the still form and advanced to where the girl stood awaiting him.
 
“I am the daughter of the vizier,” she said, softly.
 
“You are welcome,” declared the Persian; but he passed one hand over his forehead as he spoke7, and his voice sounded weary and discouraged.
 
Maie threw back her veil and smiled, while the physician, leaning upon the low table that bore the shaded lamp, gazed wonderingly at the beautiful face revealed.
 
“May I rest myself?” she asked, in her sweet voice, and without awaiting permission she passed between the table and Burah’s couch and sank gracefully8 upon a low divan9.
 
The Persian hesitated an instant, and cast an uneasy glance at his patient. Then he seated himself beside the table and bowed.
 
“It is the same old tale, I suppose?” he said, enquiringly. “You do not wish the Khan to live to acknowledge his son?”
 
The girl gave a little laugh.
 
“It is very pleasant to find you both frank and comprehensive,” she returned, “for now many useless words may be spared. Tell me, Persian, why you insist upon interfering10 with our plans to depose11 the sons of Ugg and restore the throne to the former rulers of Baluchistan? What is it to you, a stranger, whether Burah Khan dies tonight—this very moment—or lives to acknowledge his son two days hence?”
 
“Only this,” he answered quietly. “I have given my word.”
 
“Do you fear for your reputation as a skillful physician? Elai! You have already accomplished12 wonders enough to make you famous. Had you not arrived in Mekran, Burah Khan long since would have passed away.”
 
“It was a draught13 of my own invention,” said the man, musingly14. “I am anxious to test its powers. If it will hold Death at bay for seven days I shall have solved an important problem in medical science.”
 
“But why is it necessary to test your draught on the Khan of Baluchistan? There may be thousands of similar cases wherein the matter of life and death is unimportant. Perhaps, in spite of your great fame, you lack money. See!”
 
With a quick gesture she arose and approached the table, emptying upon its spread the contents of a chamois bag. Before the physician’s eyes sparkled a score of exquisite15 gems16—diamonds, rubies17, sapphires18 and emeralds of enormous value.
 
He gave them but a glance and looked into the girl’s eyes. They sparkled as brilliantly as the jewels, but were equally mystifying. What she read in his own eyes is uncertain, but a moment later she sank at his feet and clasped his knees in her rounded arms.
 
“For the cause of science,” she murmured, looking up into his face with a ravishing smile............
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