"I--I shall not forget your kindness, Effendi," said Marishka, struggling for her composure. "Already Yeva and I are good friends."
"Ah, that is fortunate, for it was upon the question of the future of Yeva that I have come to talk with you."
"Times change, Excellency. In the days gone by, the Begs of Rataj were reckoned among the rulers of Bosnia, high in the counsels of the Janissaries, feudal lords of great domains. But I, alas! the last of the Begs of Rataj, whose father even held the sway of a king, have been deprived of my tithes, and reduced to the low condition of a merchant in rugs, a dealer in antiquities, dependent upon the good will of tourists from the West, reduced perhaps one day to sit in a stall in the Carsija. It is not so much that I am no longer rich, but it is my pride, the pride of race which suffers under misfortune."
Whither was the man leading? Much as she distrusted him, her curiosity was aroused, and she listened, watching him intently.
"You will perhaps understand," he continued gravely, "that all this is very hard upon Yeva, the star of my heart, with whom Allah has blessed me. The West has flowed in upon the East at Bosna-Seraj, and engulfed it. We are no more a simple Moslem city with the tastes of our fathers; and our women are no more satisfied to remain as they were, childish, ignorant, and unlettered. The spell of the Occident is upon the land. Vienna, Berlin, Paris, have come to Bosna-Seraj. Our women sigh for the things which are beyond the mountains. The peace of the home is invaded and our women are unhappy, because their lords and masters have no money to procure for them the things that they wish."
Money! Thank God! This man could be bought!
"And Yeva?" Marishka asked, trembling in fear for the new hope that had risen.
"It is the same with her as with the others, Excellency," he shrugged despairingly. "She is but a child. I have been foolishly liberal with her--as liberal as my poor means allowed, and she has come to know the value of money--the dross for which men perjure their souls, and die if need be. Yeva, alas! wishes jewels, the pretty clothing of the women of fashion. And I, as I have related, being a mere dealer in rugs, Excellency, have not been able to give them to her. It has made unhappiness come into my household; it has made me, the Beg of Rataj, hereditary ruler of thousands, ashamed to raise my head or my voice in her presence--I, Excellency, her lord and master!"