Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-01-20
CHAPTER XV-Continued.

What is it to be?'' he demanded Of
Fortune.
what shall say to him."
"Whatever you will Ryapne was
tired. He saw that argument would be
Of no use.
"All or none of u.s. And Fortune
looked at Mahomed with all the pride
OF her race ut is not because you wish
me to be free; it is because you wish to
see one Of my companions made base In
my eyes. / will not have it,
'The will Of AllahI' He could not re-
press the fire Of admiration in his own
eyes as they took in her beauty, the erect,
slender figure, the scorn upon her race,
and the fearlessness in her great, dark
eyes. Such a woman might have graced
the palace Of the great caliph. he had
had In mind many little crueitfes to prac-
tice upon her, that he might see the men
writhe. impoteft and helpless to aid her.
But in this tense and dramatic scene a
sense Of shame took possession OF him;
his pagan heart softened; not from pity,
but from that respect which one brave
person gives free handed to another.
Mahomed was not q bad man, neither
was he a cruel one. He had been ter
ribly wronged, and his eastern way had
but one angle OF vision-to avenge h1fn-
soothe his outraged pride and re-establish
his honor as he viewed 1t from within.
Had the courier returned with the molly
Yhiordes, it is not impossible that he
| would have liberated them all: But now
he dared not: he was not far enough
away. To Bagdad. then, and as swiftly
as the exigencies of desert travel would
permit. One beacon Of hope burned in
his breast. The pasha might be deposed.
and in that case he could Immediately
/ dispose of his own goods and chattels
| and seek new pastures. 1t would come
hard. doubly hard, since he never could
regain the position he was to lose.
Nine hundred pounds English, and a
haired dog would have nothing in the end
for his pains. 1t would be what the
Feringhi called good joke.
week passed. Christmas. And not
one of them recalled the day. Perhaps
II was because years had passed since
chat time when II meant anything 10
them. The old year went out a-iagglng;
neither did they take note of this. Hav-
ing left behind civilization, customs and
habits were forgotten.
Sometimes they rode all day and all
night, sometimes but half q day, and
again, when the water was sweet. they
rested the day and night. Never hui
man being they saw, never caravan
met or crossed them In this week the
secret rnarvels Of the desert became
| theirs. They saw 1t CLEAN and waver
and glitter under skies of brass. when
| the north wind let down and q breeze
| saw 1t covered with the most amazing
blues and grays and greens. They saw
| II under the rarest azure and Q stately
feet Of billowy clouds; under the dawn.
| under the set Of sun, under the moon
| and the stars; and unfailingly the In
i terminabie reaches Of sand and rock ana
scrubby bush, chameleonlike, readJusted
It's countenance to each change In the
sky. George. who was q poet without
the gift of expression. never ceased to
find new charms; and nothing pleased his
fancy more than to see the cloud
shadows send away across the sands.
| Once, toward the latter end Of day. For
tune cried out and pointed Far away,
palely yet distinctly. they saw an ocean
| liner. She stood out against the yellow
ing sky as q magic-lantern picture stands
| out upon the screen. and faded similarly.
It was the one and only mirage they
i saw, or, at least, noticed.
Once another caravan, composed wholly
! of Arabs, passed. What hope the pris-
| oners had was instantly snuffed out. Be
| fore the strangers came within hailing
Mahomed hustled his captiyes into his
| .ent, and swore he would kill either
George or Ryanne if they spoke. He
forgot Fortune. however. As the cara