She had had a thousand feverish dreams he had never heard of.

She had lain awake hours at night and stared with wide-open eyes at the darkness, picturing to her inner soul the dream of splendour that she would be part of, the solace for past miseries, the high revenges for past slights that would be hers after the hour in which she heard the words Osborn had just quoted, "Walderhurst died last night!" Oh! if luck had only helped them! if the spells her Ayah had taught her in secret had only worked as they would have worked if she had been a native woman and had really used them properly! There was a spell she had wrought once which Ameerah had sworn to her was to be relied on.

It took ten weeks to accomplish its end.

In secret she had known of a man on whom it had been worked.

She had found out about it partly from the remote hints which had aided her half knowledge of strange things and by keeping a close watch.