her with its strangeness and with the thoughts that it engendered. She
had anticipated nothing like this. She had never thought of a
contingency that would end so, that would induce a situation before
which her courage was shuddering into pieces with the horror that was
opening up before her--a thing that had always seemed a remote
impossibility that could never touch her, from even the knowledge of
which her life with Aubrey had almost shielded her, but which now
loomed near her, forcing its reality upon her till she trembled and
great drops of moisture gathered on her forehead.

The Arab moved her position once, roughly, but she was glad of the
change for it freed her head from the stifling folds of his robes. He
did not speak again--only once when the chestnut shied violently he
muttered something under his breath. But her satisfaction was
short-lived. A few minutes afterwards his arm tightened round her once
more and he twined a fold of his long cloak round her head, blinding
her. And then she understood. The galloping horse was pulled in with
almost the same suddenness that had amazed her when she had first seen
the Arabs. She felt him draw her close into his arms and slip down on
to the ground; there were voices around her--confused, unintelligible;
then they died away as she felt him carry her a few paces. He set her
down and unwound the covering from her face. The light that shone
around her seemed by contrast dazzling with the darkness that had gone
before. Confused, she clasped her hands over her eyes for a moment and
then looked up slowly. She was in a big, lofty tent, brightly lit by
two hanging lamps. But she took no heed of her surroundings; her eyes
were fixed on the man who had brought her there. He had flung aside the
heavy cloak that enveloped him from head to foot and was standing
before her, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in white flowing robes,
a waistcloth embroidered in black and silver wound several times about