that remained to be proved, but, in any case, she would give this hound
a run for his money. She could ride, and there seemed plenty yet in the
frightened animal under her. She bent down, lying low against his neck
with a little, reckless laugh, coaxing him with all her knowledge and
spurring him alternately. But soon her mood changed. She frowned
anxiously as she looked at the last rays of the setting sun. It would
be dark very soon. She could not go chasing through the night with this
tiresome Arab at her heels. The humour seemed to have died out of the
situation and Diana began to get angry. In the level country that
surrounded her there were no natural features that could afford cover
or aid in any way; there seemed nothing for it but to own herself
defeated and pull up--if she could. An idea of trying to dodge him and
of returning of her own free will was dismissed at once as hopeless.
She had seen enough in her short glimpse of the Arabs' tactics when
they had passed her to know that she was dealing with a finished
horseman on a perfectly trained horse, and that her idea could never
succeed. But, perversely, she felt that to that particular Arab
following her she would never give in. She would ride till she dropped,
or the horse did, before that.

The whistle came again, and again, in spite of her relentless spurring,
her horse checked his pace. A sudden inspiration came to her. Perhaps
it was the horse she was riding that was the cause of all the trouble.
It was certainly the Arab's whistle that had made it moderate its
speed; it was responding clearly to a signal that it knew. Her guide's
reluctance to give any particulars of his acquisition of the horse came
back to her. There could not be much doubt about it. The animal had
unquestionably been stolen, and either belonged to or was known to the
party of Arabs who had met them.