He was a prince of his own country, who had fled from his king and the desert folk made a slave of him, and so he drifted hither.

He wished to return also, for my mother of that day, or my spirit that dwelt in her, showed to him that if he could but be there they would make him king in his own land.

But my mother of that day, she would not let him go, and by and by I will show him to you, if you wish." Bewildered, amazed, Alan listened to her.

Evidently the woman was mad, or else she played some mystical part for reasons of her own.
"When will you let me go, O Asika ?" he repeated.
"Not yet a while, I think," she said again.

"You are too comely and I like you," and she smiled at him.