of her forebodings—and behold, she saw close by a procession of splendid automobiles moving slowly, at their head a bridal car wreathed about with flowers and sweet herbs. And behold, the bride and groom were Husni and Maliha... and behold, Husni, the faithless husband, never lifted his eyes to that house beneath whose balcony he was passing—the house whose people he had come to know in the dawn of his married life, becoming their kinsman by marriage, learning their circumstances and privy to their inmost secrets; they had given him their love and offered him the best of their daughters in form and in character, and he kept no faith with them nor honored any pledge.

No sooner did Fatima hear the blaring horns of the cars and the chanting of the passersby than she came to her sister to shut the window against her, to screen her from that scene in which the fates were playing their mocking part—and behold, she saw that Layla had folded in upon herself, her color had gone deathly pale, and she had passed into the eternal swoon; and behold, the cheers of the wedding and the wailing of the funeral mingled in the conscience of space.

Husni passed long, heavy days. Layla's phantom would visit him by night and rob him of sleep, and hover about him by day, contending and disputing with him, until wakefulness wore him thin and thinking exhausted him, and the voice of conscience pressed upon him, rebuking him in its jarring tones. His temper changed, and the fever of his love for Maliha cooled; and Maliha, at his side like one distracted, tried to ease him and divert him, but to no avail. One night he was seized with a violent sleeplessness and said to his wife: Light the room for me, and bring me the newspapers and magazines that are on the table, for I feel a need to read. Maliha pressed the electric button and it filled the room with its brilliant light; but

Husni did not see the light, and thought the current was cut. He said: No matter—light the oil lamp. Maliha was stunned, her limbs trembled, and she stood staring into Husni's wide-open eyes—and behold, they neither blinked nor moved. And behold, Husni felt the crushing blow and said in abjection and brokenness: "My God, how swift is Your vengeance! Would that she for whom You have taken vengeance could know it." Maliha was shaken, and felt the thunderbolts of remorse and the stings of retribution gnawing her heart, and she began to weep until she nearly choked on her tears. And Masrur sensed the horror of the calamity and came to his master, humble and fearful, and fell upon his feet, wetting them with tears and saying: Your pardon, my lord! We sinned against fate,

Maliha and I, and its blow has requited us, for we were the true criminals. Then he began to recount to his master the tale of the plot that Maliha had contrived to lead Layla and her sister astray into the land of the thieves, and how she had tempted him with abundant money, and threatened him and warned him with menace if he did not do what he did—and so it came to pass.

Husni made no answer, but tasted the bitterness of grief and the smart of pain and remorse. As for Maliha, it was not long before she felt the weight of life with a blind husband, and she left the house never to return, repeating Husni's aching words: "Though you flee from me, Maliha, you shall find no rest from the torment of conscience."

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