him, and from the top of which showed a revolver that was thrust into
the folds.

Diana's eyes passed over him slowly till they rested on his brown,
clean-shaven face, surmounted by crisp, close-cut brown hair. It was
the handsomest and cruellest face that she had ever seen. Her gaze was
drawn instinctively to his. He was looking at her with fierce burning
eyes that swept her until she felt that the boyish clothes that covered
her slender limbs were stripped from her, leaving the beautiful white
body bare under his passionate stare.

She shrank back, quivering, dragging the lapels of her riding jacket
together over her breast with clutching hands, obeying an impulse that
she hardly understood.

"Who are you?" she gasped hoarsely.

"I am the Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan."

The name conveyed nothing. She had never heard it before. She had
spoken without thinking in French, and in French he replied to her.

"Why have you brought me here?" she asked, fighting down the fear that
was growing more terrible every moment.

He repeated her words with a slow smile. "Why have I brought you here?
Bon Dieu! Are you not woman enough to know?"

She shrank back further, a wave of colour rushing into her face that
receded immediately, leaving her whiter than she had been before. Her