Release me. Now. Or I tell the master here that she is a thief. And he will kill you for sure." "You would not betray your mother?" I asked again. I was in an agony to save her. I could kill myself later if I had to. She smiled thinly. "Perhaps you think that what my mother did was right? Perhaps you sympathize with her? Listen. The world would make you into a killer even if you refused this job. That would be your punishment for being the daughter of a thief." "No," I said stubbornly. "I have been a slave all my life. I have never taken a man's life before now." She stared at me curiously. "Listen to me. My mother's life has always been harsh. She has done terrible things because she couldn't help it. She was born into one life and lives in another. I never would have become a traitor myself. I am not a thief, either, and I don't like it." "Then help me. Please," I cried desperately. "You can have the money. Just give me a day." "I can't do that," she answered wearily. "I cannot help you to escape." "But why can't you, you who have been so friendly with the master in the past?" I asked. "I could never do that," she said firmly. "I am a prisoner here and an invalid, and all of the money I've made has gone to the master. And I'll never escape because I want to help him with his plans." "What about the jewels?" I asked. "You stole them, didn't you?" "It wasn't my fault," she said in a trembling voice. "Why won't you help me? You will never meet a better man than I am. I will always take care of you." "You think that as long as I am a slave I will never have a chance to be happy. That's wrong. You can be happy when you have freedom. Freedom is the most wonderful thing in the world." "What freedom?" she cried softly. "I mean after you have been hurt by love. Before that you are only a slave. Before that you are a chattel, a plaything of others. You have no will of your own." "I thought we could escape now, after the master died," she said, looking at me uncertainly. "Don't think about it. I am right, not wrong." "Yes, you are right, if you can help me," she said. "I can do that, provided you will do as I say." "But what must I do?" I asked in despair. She was silent, her eyes shut, as if in a trance. Then she spoke softly. "Give me one more chance. Let me take him in your place." "Don't you see that he would know that you stole them and that you'd have to be punished," I said. "It's worth the risk. You wouldn't tell on me, would you?" she pleaded. "No," I said. "But I'll never let you go alone." She seemed a little uncertain. "I'll pay you whatever you ask. I'll have your freedom if you'll help me," she said. "If you'll help me," I said. "Yes," she answered. "I'll do anything you ask. I'll even pay you for it. Anything except to let him suspect me. I hate being a prisoner here. I hate everything about it, even your hate. I don't want to be a slave any more. I want to escape." She looked at me very sadly. "But we must wait," she said. "Perhaps someday he will die, and then, perhaps I can get away. Until then, I can't leave him. He's my only living relative." "Does he know that you don't love him?" I asked. "No," she said. "Let me take his place," she pleaded, her eyes shut. "But how can you take his place? You are afraid of him. And your mother is a criminal." "But he only punishes me because he loves me," she whispered. "He loves me as his wife." "It is terrible that you are a slave and he a slave," I said softly. "He makes me do what he wants," she said in a shaking voice. "It is our only happiness," she said. "I thought we had happiness as long as we live, just like the stars and the sun." "I would have told him the truth," I said. "Never mind," she said. "I'll take my chance. Let's think of it tomorrow night. The master will let me go outside, tonight, and he will not let me come back after dark." She was silent, her eyes shut. Then she spoke suddenly. "Why is it that I love him?" she asked. "Why am I ashamed of what I have done?" "It is because you are afraid to be what you are," I said. "But it is only because he has a hold on me that I feel that. If he let me go I would be another person, as I was before I saw him." "It is not right for me to hate him. That is not my real self," she murmured softly. "It is only because you were captured by him," I said. "I don't know what I am. I want to be free. I'm tired of this prison." "My love is like a prison for you," she cried desperately. "But I can't help it. How can I change what was written for me?" she said softly. "I can't stand the thought of losing you. When he comes to me tonight, my heart is as cold as ice. His arms are as warm as flames of fire. It is like the winter, with all the birds lost, and flowers dying." The door opened suddenly. A slave stood there, the master's own slave. "You can go now," he said. His expression was kind. I was filled with new hope and thankfulness that there was such a man as he in the world. "Yes, my love," I said, softly. He came closer, and I trembled. But the warmth of his body made me shiver with cold, and a kind of peace came over me. "Don't be cold," he said, softly, putting his hand on my arm. "I know why you love me, and I shall always love you as long as you live." "Oh, my love," I moaned, and my tears froze to my cheeks again. "You don't know me," he said. "You only know that I am the master. When you see my wife, you will see me as I am." "I'm afraid," I said. "Don't be afraid," he said. "The world would have put me here long ago if I did not love my wife, and she, in turn, would have died of starvation. Our happiness is the greatest treasure in the world. It has lifted us above the earth. There is no greater joy than this." "I think of my mother," I said. "And you will be happy someday, too, if you are loyal," he said. "But the most happy men are the ones who dare to suffer." I looked at him, and he saw my eyes. They were full of the tears of the slave, the anguish of a trapped bird. But there was a flame of fire in his eyes that were more fearsome than anything I could have dreamed. "You and I are not slaves any longer," he said. He took a large piece of money from his wallet and put it in my hands. "Take this. Pay it to someone who deserves it." "No," I whispered. "Take it. Let me give it to you. If I had earned it, I would give it to you." "It is for the happiness you have brought me." "It's only money," I murmured. "You love me. If you can give it away, you will give it to me." "Then keep it." "I don't want it," I said. "Only give it to me." He made a motion to pull out his wallet, but I held him back and he looked at me. "If you are happy, then I am happy," I whispered. "Who would have dared to come to me as you did," he said. "But now I know. I am happy," I said. "And if you wish, you can return the money to me if you want to." "Oh no," I cried. "You are not a slave and I am not a slave." I was filled with the joy of the miracle. "