The Sheik: A Novel Read online

  CHAPTER II

  The promised send-off had been enthusiastic. The arrangements for thetrip had been perfect; there had been no hitch anywhere. The guide,Mustafa Ali, appeared capable and efficient, effacing himself when notwanted and replying with courteous dignity when spoken to. The day hadbeen full of interest, and the long, hot ride had for Diana been theheight of physical enjoyment. They had reached the oasis where thefirst night was to be passed an hour before, and found the camp alreadyestablished, tents pitched, and everything so ordered that Sir Aubreycould find nothing to criticise; even Stephens, his servant, who hadtravelled with him since Diana was a baby, and who was as critical ashis master on the subject of camps, had no fault to find.

  Diana glanced about her little travelling tent with complete content.It was much smaller than the ones to which she had always beenaccustomed, ridiculously so compared with the large one she had had inIndia the previous year, with its separate bath--and dressing-rooms.Servants, too, had swarmed in India. Here service promised to beinadequate, but it had been her whim on this tour to dispense with theelaborate arrangements that Sir Aubrey cultivated and to trycomparative roughing it. The narrow camp cot, the tin bath, the littlefolding table and her two suit-cases seemed to take up all theavailable space. But she laughed at the inconvenience, though she haddrenched her bed with splashing, and the soap had found its way intothe toe of one of her long boots. She had changed from her ridingclothes into a dress of clinging jade-green silk, swinging short aboveher slender ankles, the neck cut low, revealing the gleaming white ofher soft, girlish bosom. She came out of the tent and stood a momentexchanging an amused smile with Stephens, who was hovering neardubiously, one eye on her and the other on his master. She was late,and Sir Aubrey liked his meals punctually. The baronet was lounging inone deck-chair with his feet on another.

  Diana wagged an admonishing forefinger. "Fly, Stephens, and fetch thesoup! If it is cold there will be a riot." She walked to the edge ofthe canvas cloth that had been thrown down in front of the tents andstood revelling in the scene around her, her eyes dancing withexcitement as they glanced slowly around the camp spread out over theoasis--the clustering palm trees, the desert itself stretching awaybefore her in undulating sweeps, but seemingly level in the eveninglight, far off to the distant hills lying like a dark smudge againstthe horizon. She drew a long breath. It was the desert at last, thedesert that she felt she had been longing for all her life. She hadnever known until this moment how intense the longing had been. Shefelt strangely at home, as if the great, silent emptiness had beenwaiting for her as she had been waiting for it, and now that she hadcome it was welcoming her softly with the faint rustle of thewhispering sand, the mysterious charm of its billowy, shifting surfacethat seemed beckoning to her to penetrate further and further into itsunknown obscurities.

  Her brother's voice behind her brought her down to earth suddenly."You've been a confounded long time."

  She turned to the table with a faint smile. "Don't be a bear, Aubrey.It's all very well for you. You have Stephens to lather your chin andto wash your hands, but thanks to that idiot Marie, I have to lookafter myself."

  Sir Aubrey took his heels down leisurely from the second chair, pitchedaway his cigar, and, screwing his eyeglass into his eye with more thanusual truculence, looked at her with disapproval. "Are you going to rigyourself out like that every evening for the benefit of Mustafa Ali andthe camel-drivers?"

  "I do not propose to invite the worthy Mustafa to meals, and I am notin the habit of 'rigging myself out,' as you so charmingly put it, forany one's benefit. If you think I dress in camp to please you, my dearAubrey, you flatter yourself. I do it entirely to please myself. Thatexplorer woman we met in London that first year I began travelling withyou explained to me the real moral and physical value of changing intocomfortable, pretty clothes after a hard day in breeches and boots. Youchange yourself. What's the difference?"

  "All the difference," he snapped. "There is no need for you to makeyourself more attractive than you are already."

  "Since when has it occurred to you that I am attractive? You must havea touch of the sun, Aubrey," she replied, with uplifted eyebrows,drumming impatiently with her fingers on the table.

  "Don't quibble. You know perfectly well that you are good-looking--toogood-looking to carry through this preposterous affair."

  "Will you please tell me what you are driving at?" she asked quietly.But the dark blue eyes fixed on her brother's face were growing darkeras she looked at him.

  "I've been doing some hard thinking to-day, Diana. This tour youpropose is impossible."

  "Isn't it rather late in the day to find that out?" she interruptedsarcastically; but he ignored the interruption.

  "You must see for yourself, now that you are face to face with thething, that it is impossible. It's quite unthinkable that you canwander for the next month all alone in the desert with those damnedniggers. Though my legal guardianship over you terminated lastSeptember I still have some moral obligations towards you. Though ithas been convenient to me to bring you up as a boy and to regard you inthe light of a younger brother instead of a sister, we cannot get awayfrom the fact that you are a woman, and a very young woman. There arecertain things a young woman cannot do. If you had been the boy Ialways wished you were it would have been a different matter, but youare not a boy, and the whole thing is impossible--utterly impossible."There was a fretful impatience in his voice.

  Diana lit a cigarette slowly, and swung round on her chair with a hardlaugh. "If I had not lived with you all my life, Aubrey, I shouldreally be impressed with your brotherly solicitude; I should think youreally meant it. But knowing you as I do, I know that it is not anxietyon my behalf that is prompting you, but the disinclination that youhave to travel alone without me. You have come to depend on me to saveyou certain annoyances and inconveniences that always occur intravelling. You were more honest in Biskra when you only objected to mytrip without giving reasons. Why have you waited until to-night to giveme those reasons?"

  "Because I thought that here, at least, you would have sense enough tosee them. In Biskra it was impossible to argue with you. You made yourown arrangements against my wishes. I left it, feeling convinced thatthe impossibility of it would be brought home to you here, and that youwould see for yourself that it was out of the question. Diana, give upthis insane trip."

  "I will not."

  "I've a thundering good mind to make you."

  "You can't. I'm my own mistress. You have no right over me at all. Youhave no claim on me. You haven't even that of ordinary brotherlyaffection, for you have never given me any, so you cannot expect itfrom me. We needn't make any pretence about it, I am not going to argueany more. I will not go back to Biskra."

  "If you are afraid of being laughed at----" he sneered; but she took himup swiftly.

  "I am not afraid of being laughed at. Only cowards are afraid of that,and I am not a coward."

  "Diana, listen to reason!"

  "Aubrey! I have said my last word. Nothing will alter my determinationto go on this trip. Your arguments do not convince me, who know you. Itis your own considerations and not mine that are at the bottom of yourremonstrances. You do not deny it, because you can't, because it istrue."

  They were facing each other across the little table. An angry flushrose in Sir Aubrey's face, and his eyeglass fell with a little sharptinkle against a waistcoat button.

  "You're a damned obstinate little devil!" he said furiously.

  She looked at him steadily, her scornful mouth firm as his own. "I amwhat you have made me," she said slowly. "Why quarrel with the result?You have brought me up to ignore the restrictions attached to my sex;you now round on me and throw them in my face. All my life you have setme an example of selfishness and obstinacy. Can you wonder that I haveprofited by it? You have made me as hard as yourself, and you nowprofess surprise at the determination your training has forced upon me.You are illogical. It is your fault, not mine. There was bound to be ac
lash some day. It has come sooner than I expected, that's all. Up tillnow my inclinations have gone with yours, but this seems to be theparting of the ways. As I reminded you before, I am my own mistress,and I will submit to no interference with my actions. Please understandthat clearly, Aubrey. I don't want to wrangle any more. I will join youin New York as I promised. I am not in the habit of breaking mypromises, but my life is my own to deal with, and I will deal with itexactly as I wish and not as any one else wishes. I will do what Ichoose when and how I choose, and I will _never_ obey any will butmy own."

  Sir Aubrey's eyes narrowed suddenly. "Then I hope to Heaven that oneday you will fall into the hands of a man who will make you obey," hecried wrathfully.

  Her scornful mouth curled still more scornfully. "Then Heaven helphim!" she retorted scathingly, and turned away to her tent.

  But, alone, her anger gave way to amusement. It had been something,after all, to rouse the lazy Aubrey to wrath. She knew exactly thegrievance he had been nursing against her during the last few weeks inBiskra. Though he travelled perpetually and often in remote anddesolate places, he travelled with the acme of comfort and the minimumof inconveniences. He put himself out for nothing, and the inevitabledifficulties that accrued fell on Diana's younger and less blaseshoulders. She had always known the uses he put her to and theconvenience she was to him. He might have some latent feelings withregard to the inadvisability of her behavior, he might even have someprickings of conscience on the subject of his upbringing of her, but itwas thoughts of his own comfort that were troubling him most. That sheknew, and the knowledge was not conducive to any kinder feeling towardshim. He always had been and always would be supremely selfish. Thewhole of their life together had been conducted to suit hisconveniences and not hers. She knew, too, why her company wasparticularly desired on his visit to America. It was a hunting trip,but not the kind that they were usually accustomed to: it was a wifeand not big game that was taking Sir Aubrey across the ocean on thisoccasion. It had been in his mind for some time as an inevitable andsomewhat unpleasant necessity. Women bored him, and the idea ofmarriage was distasteful, but a son to succeed him was imperative--aMayo must be followed by a Mayo. An heir was essential for the bigproperty that the family had held for hundreds of years. No woman hadever attracted him, but of all women he had met American women wereless actively irritating to him, and so it was to America that heturned in search of a wife. He proposed to take a house in New York fora few months and later on in Newport, and it was for that that Diana'scompany was considered indispensable. She would save him endlesstrouble, as all arrangements could be left in her hands and Stephens'.Having made up his mind to go through with a proceeding that heregarded in the light of a sacrifice on the family altar, his wish wasto get it over and done with as soon as possible, and Diana'sinterference in his plans had exasperated him. It was the first timethat their wills had crossed, and she shrugged her shouldersimpatiently, with a grimace at the recollection. A little more and itwould have degenerated into a vulgar quarrel. She banished Aubrey andhis selfishness resolutely from her mind. It was very hot, and she layvery still in the narrow cot, wishing she had not been so rigid in thematter of its width, and wondering if a sudden movement in the nightwould precipitate her into the bath that stood alongside. She thoughtregretfully of a punkah, and then smiled derisively at herself.

  "Sybarite!" she murmured sleepily. "You need a few discomforts."

  She was almost aggressively cheerful next morning at breakfast and forthe time that they lingered at the oasis after the baggage camels hadstarted. Sir Aubrey was morose and silent, and she exchanged most ofher badinage with Stephens, who was superintending the packing of thetiffin basket that would accompany her in charge of the man who hadbeen selected as her personal servant, and who was waiting, withMustafa Ali and about ten men, to ride with her.

  The time for starting came. Stephens was fussing about the horse thatDiana was to ride.

  "Everything all right, Stephens? Up to your standard? Don't look soglum. I wish you were coming to look after me, but it couldn't be done.Sir Aubrey would be lost without you."

  The idea of a tour without Stephens in the background seemed suddenlymomentous, and the smile she gave him was more serious than she meantit to be. She went back to her brother, who was pulling his moustachesavagely. "I don't think there's any use waiting any longer. You won'twant to hurry yourself too much, and you will want to be in Biskra intime for dinner," she said as casually as she could.

  He swung towards her. "Diana, it's still not too late to change yourmind. For Heaven's sake give up this folly. It's tempting Providence."For the first time there was a genuine ring in his voice, and for amoment Diana wavered, but only for a moment. Then she looked at himwith a slow smile.

  "Do I fall on your neck and say, 'Take me back, dear Guardian; I willbe good,' or do I prostrate myself at your feet and knock my head onyour boots, and whine, in the language of the country, 'Hearing isobeying'? Don't be ridiculous, Aubrey. You can't expect me to change mymind at the eleventh hour. It's perfectly safe. Mustafa Ali will takecare that everything goes smoothly. He has his reputation in Biskra tothink of. You know the character the authorities gave him. He is notlikely to throw that away. In any case I can take care of myself,thanks to your training. I don't mind owning to being conceited aboutmy shooting. Even you admit that I am a credit to your teaching."

  With a gay little laugh she whipped out the ivory-mounted revolver, andaiming at a low flat rock, some distance away, fired. She was anunusually good revolver shot, but this time she seemed to have missed.There was no mark on the stone. Diana stared at it stupidly, a frown ofperplexity creasing her forehead. Then she looked at her brother, andback to the revolver in her hand.

  Sir Aubrey swore. "Diana! What a senseless piece of bravado!" he criedangrily.

  She took no notice of him. She was still staring at the smooth rockfate. "I don't understand it. How could I miss? It's as big as ahouse," she murmured thoughtfully, and raised the revolver again.

  But Sir Aubrey caught her wrist. "For God's sake don't make a fool ofyourself a second time. You have lowered your prestige quite enoughalready," he said in a low voice, with a glance at the group ofwatching Arabs.

  Diana jerked the little weapon back into its place reluctantly. "Idon't understand it," she said again. "It must be the light." Shemounted and wheeled her horse alongside of Sir Aubrey's, and held outher hand. "Good-bye, Aubrey. Expect me a month after you arrive. I willcable to you from Cherbourg. Good luck! I shall roll up in time to bebest man," she added, laughing, and with a nod to Mustafa Ali sheturned her horse's head southwards.

  For a long time she rode in silence. The quarrel with Aubrey had left anasty taste in her mouth. She knew that what she was doing wasconsidered unconventional, but she had been brought up to beunconventional. She had never even thought, when she planned her tour,of possible criticism; it would have made no difference to her if shehad thought, and she had been amazed and amused at the sensation thather proposed trip had caused. The publicity to which it had given risehad annoyed her intensely; she had been scornful that people could notoccupy themselves with their own affairs and leave her to deal withhers. But that Aubrey should join in the general criticism and presentsuch a complete _volte-face_ to the opinions he had always heldwas beyond her comprehension. She was angry with him, and contempt wasmingled with her anger. It was inconsistent with the whole of hislifelong attitude toward her, and the discovery of his altered ideasleft her rather breathless and more than ever determined to adhere toher own deeply-rooted convictions. Aubrey was responsible for them, hehad instilled them, and if he chose now to abandon them that was hislook-out. For her own part she saw no reason to change principles shehad been brought up in. If Aubrey really thought there was danger inthis expedition he could have sacrificed himself for once and come withher. As Jim Arbuthnot had said, it was only a month, a negligiblelength of time, but Aubrey's selfishness would not allow him to makethat concession any more
than her own obstinacy would allow her to giveway. It was too much to expect. And this was the desert! It was theexpedition that she had dreamed of and planned for years. She could notgive it up. The idea of danger brought a little laugh to her lips. Howcould anything in the desert hurt her? It had been calling to heralways. There was nothing strange about the scene that lay all aroundher. Her surroundings seemed oddly familiar. The burning sun overheadin the cloudless sky, the shimmering haze rising from the hot, dryground, the feathery outline of some clustering palm trees in a tinydistant oasis were like remembrances that she watched again with afeeling of gladness that was fuller and deeper than anything that shehad been conscious of before. She was radiantly happy--happy in thesense of her youth and strength, her perfect physical fitness, happy inthe capacity of her power of enjoyment, happy with the touch of thekeen, nervous horse between her knees, exhilarated with her newauthority. She had looked forward so eagerly, and realisation wasproving infinitely greater than anticipation. And for a whole monththis perfect happiness was to be hers. She thought of her promise toAubrey with impatience. To give up the joyous freedom of the desert forthe commonplace round of American social life seemed preposterous. Thethought of the weeks in New York were frankly tedious; Newport would bea little less bad, for there were alleviations. The only hope was thatAubrey would find the wife he was looking for quickly and release herfrom an obligation that was going to be very wearisome. Aubrey wascounting on her, and it would be unsporting to let him down; she wouldhave to keep her promise, but she would be glad when it was over.Aubrey married would settle definitely the possibility of any furtherdisagreements between them. She wondered vaguely what the future LadyMayo would be like, but she did not expend much pity on her. Americangirls as a rule were well able to care for themselves. She stroked herhorse with a little smile. Aubrey and his possible wife seemedsingularly uninteresting beside the vivid interest of the moment. Acaravan that had been visible for a long time coming towards them drewnearer, and Diana reined in to watch the long line of slow, lurchingcamels passing. The great beasts, with their disdainful tread and long,swaying necks, never failed to interest her. It was a large caravan;the bales on the camels' backs looked heavy, and beside the merchantson riding camels and a motley crowd of followers--some on lean littledonkeys and others on foot--there was an armed guard of mounted men. Ittook some time to pass. One of two of the camels carried huddledfigures, swathed and shapeless with a multitude of coverings, thatDiana knew must be women. The contrast between them and herself wasalmost ridiculous. It made her feel stifled even to look at them. Shewondered what their lives were like, if they ever rebelled against thedrudgery and restrictions that were imposed upon them, if they everlonged for the freedom that she was revelling in, or if custom andusage were so strong that they had no thoughts beyond the narrow lifethey led. The thought of those lives filled her with aversion. The ideaof marriage--even in its highest form, based on mutual considerationand mutual forbearance--was repugnant to her. She thought of it with ashiver of absolute repulsion. To Aubrey it was distasteful, but to hercold, reserved temperament it was a thing of horror and disgust. Thatwomen could submit to the degrading intimacy and fettered existence ofmarried life filled her with scornful wonder. To be bound irrevocablyto the will and pleasure of a man who would have the right to demandobedience in all that constituted marriage and the strength to enforcethose claims revolted her. For a Western woman it was bad enough, butfor the women of the East, mere slaves of the passions of the men whoowned them, unconsidered, disregarded, reduced to the level of animals,the bare idea made her quiver and bring her hand down heavily on herhorse's neck. The nervous creature started sharply and she let him go,calling to Mustafa Ali as she cantered past him. He had ridden to meetthe caravan and was dismounted, deep in conversation with the chief ofthe armed guard. With the thoughts that it had provoked the caravan hadlost all interest for Diana. She wanted to get away from it, to forgetit, and she rode on unmindful of her escort, who, like her guide, hadstopped to speak with the traders. Diana's horse was fleet, and it wassome time before they caught her up. There was a look of annoyance onMustafa Ali's face as she turned on hearing them behind her and signedto him to ride beside her.

  "Mademoiselle is not interested in the caravan?" he asked curiously.

  "No," she replied shortly, and asked for some details connected withher own expedition. The man talked easily and well, in fluent French,and after giving the required information, volunteered anecdotesrelating to various well-known people whom he had guided in the desert.Diana watched him interestedly. He seemed a man of about middle age,though it was difficult to guess more than approximately, for thethick, peaked beard that hid both mouth and chin made him look olderthan he really was. His beard had been his only drawback from Diana'spoint of view, for she judged men by their mouths. Eyes wereuntrustworthy evidences of character in an Oriental, for they usuallywavered under a European's. Mustafa Ali's were wavering now as shelooked at him, and it occurred to her that they had not seemed nearlyso shifty in Biskra when she had engaged him. But she attached noimportance to the thought, and dismissed it as much less interestingthan the great difference displayed in their respective modes ofriding. The Arab's exaggeratedly short stirrup would have given heragonies of cramp. She pointed the difference with a laugh of amusementand drew the man on to speak of his horses. The one Diana was ridingwas an unusually fine beast, and had been one of the greatest points inthe guide's favour when he had brought it for her inspection. He wasenthusiastic in its praise, but volubly vague as to its antecedents,which left Diana with the conviction that the animal had either beenstolen or acquired in some irregular manner and that it would betactless to pursue further inquiries. After all it was no business ofhers. It was enough that her trip was to be conducted on the back of ahorse that it was a pleasure to ride and whose vagaries promised togive interest to what otherwise might have been monotonous. Some of thehorses that she had seen in Biskra had been the veriest jades.

  She asked Mustafa Ali about the country through which they werepassing, but he did not seem to have much information that was reallyof interest, or what seemed important to him appeared trivial to her,and he constantly brought the conversation back to Biskra, of which shewas tired, or to Oran, of which she knew nothing. The arrival at alittle oasis where the guide suggested that the midday halt might bemade was opportune. Diana swung to the ground, and, tossing down hergloves, gave herself a shake. It was hot work riding in the burning sunand the rest would be delightful. She had a thoroughly healthyappetite, and superintended the laying out of her lunch with interest.It was the last time that it would be as daintily packed. Stephens wasan artist with a picnic basket. She was going to miss Stephens. Shefinished her lunch quickly, and then, with her back propped against apalm tree, a cigarette in her mouth, her arms clasped round her knees,she settled down happily, overlooking the desert. The noontime hushseemed over everything. Not a breath of wind stirred the tops of thepalms; a lizard on a rock near her was the only living thing she couldsee. She glanced over her shoulder. The men, with their big cloaksdrawn over their heads, were lying asleep, or at any rate appeared tobe so; only Mustafa Ali was on foot, standing at the edge of the oasis,staring fixedly in the direction in which they would ride later.

  Diana threw the end of her cigarette at the lizard and laughed at itsprecipitant flight. She had no desire to follow the example of herescort and sleep. She was much too happy to lose a minute of herenjoyment by wasting it in rest that she did not require. She wasperfectly content and satisfied with herself and her outlook. She hadnot a care or a thought in the world. There was not a thing that shewould have changed or altered. Her life had always been happy; she hadextracted the last ounce of pleasure out of every moment of it. Thather happiness was due to the wealth that had enabled her to indulge inthe sports and constant travel that made up the sum total of herdesires never occurred to her. That what composed her pleasure in lifewas possible only because she was rich enough to buy the means
ofgratifying it did not enter her head. She thought of her wealth no morethan of her beauty. The business connected with her coming of age, whenthe big fortune left to her by her father passed unreservedly into herown hands, was a wearisome necessity that had been got through asexpeditiously as possible, with as little attention to detail as theold family lawyer had allowed, and an absence of interest that wasevidenced in the careless scrawl she attached to each document that wasgiven her to sign. The mere money in itself was nothing; it was only ameans to an end. She had never even realised how much was expended onthe continuous and luxurious expeditions that she had made with SirAubrey; her own individual tastes were simple, and apart from theexpensive equipment that was indispensable for their hunting trips, andwhich was Aubrey's choosing, not hers, she was not extravagant. Thelong list of figures that had been so boring during the tedious hoursthat she had spent with the lawyer, grudging every second of theglorious September morning that she had had to waste in the librarywhen she was longing to be out of doors, had conveyed nothing to herbeyond the fact that in future when she wanted anything she would beput to the trouble of writing out an absurd piece of paper herself,instead of leaving the matter in Aubrey's hands, as she had donehitherto.

  She had hardly understood and had been much embarrassed by the formaland pedantic congratulations with which the lawyer had concluded hisbusiness statement. She was not aware that she was an object ofcongratulation. It all seemed very stupid and uninteresting. Of reallife she knew nothing and of the ordinary ties and attachments offamily life less than nothing. Aubrey's cold, loveless training haddebarred her from all affection she had grown up oblivious of it. Lovedid not exist for her; from even the thought of passion she shrankinstinctively with the same fastidiousness as she did from actualphysical uncleanliness.

  That she had awakened an emotion that she did not understand herself incertain men had been an annoyance that had become more intolerable withrepetition. She had hated them and herself impartially, and she hadscorned them fiercely. She had never been so gentle and so human withany one as she had been with Jim Arbuthnot, and that only because shewas so radiantly happy that night that not even the distastefulreminder that she was a woman whom a man coveted was able to disturbher happiness. But here there was no need to dwell on annoyances ordistasteful reminders.

  Diana dug her heels into the soft ground with a little wriggle ofcontent; here she would be free from anything that could mar herperfect enjoyment of life as it appeared to her. Here there was nothingto spoil her pleasure. Her head had drooped during her thoughts, andfor the last few minutes her eyes had been fixed on the dusty tips ofher riding-boots. But she raised them now and looked up with a greatcontent in them. It was the happiest day of her life. She had forgottenthe quarrel with Aubrey. She had put from her the chain of ideassuggested by the passing caravan. There was nothing discordant todisturb the perfect harmony of her mind.

  A shade beside her made her turn her head. Mustafa Ali salaamedobsequiously. "It is time to start, Mademoiselle."

  Diana looked up in surprise and then back over her shoulder at theescort. The men were already mounted. The smile faded from her eyes.Mustafa Ali was guide, but she was head of this expedition if herguide had not realised this he would have to do so now. She glanced atthe watch on her wrist.

  "There is plenty of time," she said coolly.

  Mustafa Ali salaamed again. "It is a long ride to reach the oasis wherewe must camp to-night," he insisted hurriedly.

  Diana crossed one brown boot over the other, and scooping up some sandin the palm of her hand trickled it through her fingers slowly. "Thenwe can ride faster," she replied quietly, looking at the shiningparticles glistening in the sun.

  Mustafa Ali made a movement of impatience and persisted doggedly."Mademoiselle would do well to start."

  Diana looked up swiftly with angry eyes. Under the man's suave mannerand simple words a peremptory tone had crept into his voice. She satquite still, her fingers raking the warm sand, and under her haughtystare the guide's eyes wavered and turned away. "We will start when Ichoose, Mustafa Ali," she said brusquely. "You may give orders to yourmen, but you will take your orders from me. I will tell you when I amready. You may go."

  Still he hesitated, swaying irresolutely backwards and forwards on hisheels.

  Diana snapped her fingers over her shoulder, a trick she had learnedfrom a French officer in Biskra. "I said go!" she repeated sharply. Shetook no notice of his going and did not look back to see what orders hegave the men. She glanced at her watch again. Perhaps it was growinglate, perhaps the camp was a longer ride than she had thought; butMustafa Ali must learn his lesson if they rode till midnight to reachthe oasis. She pushed her obstinate chin out further and then smiledagain suddenly. She hoped that the night would fall before they reachedtheir destination. There had been one or two moonlight riding picnicsout from Biskra, and the glamour of the desert nights had gone toDiana's head. This riding into the unknown away from the noisy,chattering crowd who had spoiled the perfect stillness of the nightwould be infinitely more perfect. She gave a little sigh of regret asshe thought of it. It was not really practical. Though she would waitnearly another hour to allow the fact of her authority to sink intoMustafa Ali's brain she would have to hasten afterwards to arrive atthe camp before darkness set in. The men were unused to her ways andshe to theirs. She would not have Stephens' help to-night; she wouldhave to depend on herself to order everything as she wished it, and itwas easier done in daylight. One hour would not make much difference.The horses had more in them than had been taken out of them thismorning; they could be pushed along a bit faster with no harm happeningto them. She eyed her watch from time to time with a grin of amusement,but suppressed the temptation to look and see how Mustafa Ali wastaking it, for her action might be seen and misconstrued.

  When the time she had set herself was up she rose and walked slowlytowards the group of Arabs. The guide's face was sullen, but she tookno notice, and, when they started, motioned him to her side again witha reference to Biskra that provoked a flow of words. It was the lastplace she wanted to hear of, but it was one of which he spoke thereadiest, and she knew it was not wise to allow him to remain silent tosulk. His ill-temper would evaporate with the sound of his own voice.She rode forward steadily, silent herself, busy with her own thoughts,heedless of the voice beside her, and unconscious of the fact when itbecame silent.

  She had been quite right about the capabilities of the horses. Theyresponded without any apparent effort to the further demand made ofthem. The one in particular that Diana was riding moved in a swift,easy gallop that was the perfection of motion.

  They had been riding for some hours when they came to the first oasisthat had been sighted since leaving the one where the midday halt wasmade. Diana pulled up her horse to look at it, for it was unusuallybeautiful in the luxuriousness and arrangement of its group of palmsand leafy bushes. Some pigeons were cooing softly, hidden from sightamongst the trees, with a plaintive melancholy that somehow seemed inkeeping with the deserted spot. Beside the well, forming a triangle,stood what had been three particularly fine palm trees, but the topshad been broken off about twenty feet up from the ground, and themutilated trunks reared themselves bare and desolate-looking. Dianatook off her heavy helmet and tossed it to the man behind her, and satlooking at the oasis, while the faint breeze that had sprung up stirredher thick, short hair, and cooled her hot head. The sad notes of thepigeons and the broken palms, that with their unusualness vaguelysuggested a tragedy, lent an air of mystery to the place that pleasedher.

  She turned eagerly to Mustafa Ali. "Why did you not arrange for thecamp to be here? It would have been a long enough ride."

  The man fidgeted in his saddle, fingering his beard uneasily, his eyeswandering past Diana's and looking at the broken trees. "No man restshere, Mademoiselle. It is the place of devils. The curse of Allah isupon it," he muttered, touching his horse with his heel, and making itsidle restlessly--an obvious hint that Diana ig
nored.

  "I like it," she persisted obstinately.

  He made a quick gesture with his fingers. "It is accursed. Death lurksbeside those broken palm trees," he said, looking at her curiously.

  She jerked her head with a sudden smile. "For you, perhaps, but not forme. Allah's curse rests only upon those who fear it. But since you areafraid, Mustafa Ali, let us go on." She gave a little light laugh, andMustafa Ali kicked his horse savagely as he followed.

  The distance before her spread out cleanly with the sharp distinctnessthat precedes the setting sun. She rode on until she began to wonder ifit would indeed be night-fall before she reached her destination. Theyhad ridden longer and faster than had ever been intended. It seemed oddthat they had not overtaken the baggage camels. She looked at her watchwith a frown. "Where is your caravan, Mustafa Ali?" she called. "I seeno sign of an oasis, and the darkness will come."

  "If Mademoiselle had started earlier----" he said sullenly.

  "If I had started earlier it would still have been too far. To-morrowwe will arrange it otherwise," she said firmly.

  "To-morrow----" he growled indistinctly.

  Diana looked at him keenly. "What did you say?" she asked haughtily.

  His hand went to his forehead mechanically. "To-morrow is with Allah!"he murmured with unctuous piety.

  A retort trembled on Diana's lips, but her attention was distractedfrom her annoying guide to a collection of black specks far off acrossthe desert. They were too far away for her to see clearly, but shepointed to them, peering at them intently. "See!" she cried. "Is thatthe caravan?"

  "As Allah wills!" he replied more piously than before, and Dianawished, with a sudden feeling of irritation, that he would stoprelegating his responsibilities to the Deity and take a little moreactive personal interest in his missing camel train.

  The black specks were moving fast across the level plain. Very soonDiana saw that it was not the slow, leisurely camels that they wereovertaking, but a band of mounted men who were moving swiftly towardsthem. They had seen nobody since the traders' caravan had passed themin the morning. For Diana the Arabs that were approaching were evenmore interesting than the caravan had been. She had seen plenty ofcaravans arriving and departing from Biskra, but, though she had seensmall parties of tribesmen constantly in the vicinity of the town, shehad never seen so large a body of mounted men before, nor had she seenthem as they were here, one with the wild picturesqueness of theirsurroundings. It was impossible to count how many there were, for theywere riding in close formation, the wind filling their great whitecloaks, making each man look gigantic. Diana's interest flamed upexcitedly. It was like passing another ship upon a hitherto empty sea.They seemed to add a desired touch to the grim loneliness of the scenethat had begun to be a little awe-inspiring. Perhaps she was hungry,perhaps she was tired, or perhaps she was only annoyed by the badarrangements of her guide, but before the advent of the mounted ArabsDiana had been conscious of a feeling of oppression, as if the silentdesolation of the desert was weighing heavily upon her, but the body ofswiftly moving men and horses had changed the aspect utterly. Anatmosphere of life and purpose seemed to have taken the place of thequiet stagnation that had been before their coming.

  The distance between the two parties decreased rapidly. Diana, intenton the quickly advancing horsemen, spurred ahead of her guide withsparkling eyes. They were near enough now to see that the horses werebeautiful creatures and that each man rode magnificently. They werearmed too, their rifles being held in front of them, not slung on theirbacks as she had seen in Biskra. They passed quite close to her, only afew yards away--a solid square, the orderly ranks suggesting trainingand discipline that she had not looked for. Not a head turned in herdirection as they went by and the pace was not slackened. Fretted bythe proximity of the galloping horses, her own horse rearedimpatiently, but Diana pulled him in, turning in her saddle to watchthe Arabs pass, her breath coming quick with excitement.

  "What are they?" she called out to Mustafa Ali, who had dropped someway behind her. But he, too, was looking back at the horsemen, and didnot seem to hear her question. Her escort had lagged still furtherbehind her guide and were some distance away. Diana watched the rapidlymoving, compact square eagerly with appreciatory eyes--it was abeautiful sight. Then she gave a little gasp. The galloping horses haddrawn level with the last stragglers of her own party, and just beyondthey stopped suddenly. Diana would not have believed it possible thatthey could have stopped so suddenly and in such close formation whiletravelling at such a pace. The tremendous strain on the bridles flungthe horses far back on their haunches. But there was no time to dwellon the wonderful horsemanship or training of the men. Events moved toorapidly. The solid square split up and lengthened out into a long lineof two men riding abreast. Wheeling behind the last of Mustafa's menthey came back even faster than they had passed, and circled widelyround Diana and her attendants. Bewildered by this manoeuvre shewatched them with a puzzled frown, striving to soothe her horse, whowas nearly frantic with excitement. Twice they galloped round herlittle band, their long cloaks fluttering, their rifles tossing intheir hands. Diana was growing impatient. It was very fine to watch,but time and the light were both going. She would have been glad if thedemonstration had occurred earlier in the day, when there would havebeen more time to enjoy it. She turned again to Mustafa Ali to suggestthat they had better try to move on, but he had gone further from her,back towards his own. She wrestled with her nervous mount, trying toturn him to join her guide, when a sudden burst of rifle shots made herstart and her horse bound violently. Then she laughed. That would bethe end of the demonstration, a parting salute, the _decharge demousqueterie_ beloved of the Arab. She turned her head from herrefractory horse to look at them ride off, and the laugh died away onher lips. It was not a farewell salute. The rifles that the Arabs werefiring were not pointing up into the heavens, but aiming straight ather and her escort. And as she stared with suddenly startled eyes,unable to do anything with her plunging horse, Mustafa Ali's men wereblotted out from her sight, cut off by a band of Arabs who rode betweenher and them. Mustafa Ali himself was lying forward on the neck of hishorse, who was standing quiet amidst the general confusion. Then therecame another volley, and the guide slid slowly out of his saddle on tothe ground, and at the same time Diana's horse went off with a wildleap that nearly unseated her.

  Until they started shooting the thought that the Arabs could be hostilehad not crossed her mind. She imagined that they were merely showingoff with the childish love of display which she knew wascharacteristic. The French authorities had been right after all.Diana's first feeling was one of contempt for an administration thatmade possible such an attempt so near civilisation. Her second afleeting amusement at the thought of how Aubrey would jeer. But heramusement passed as the real seriousness of the attack came home toher. For the first time it occurred to her that her guide's descentfrom his saddle was due to a wound and not to the fear that she had atfirst disgustedly attributed to him. But nobody had seemed to put upany kind of a fight, she thought wrathfully. She tugged angrily at herhorse's mouth, but the bit was between his teeth and he tore onfrantically. Her own position made her furious. Her guide was wounded,his men surrounded, and she was ignominiously being run away with by abolting horse. If she could only turn the wretched animal. It wouldonly be a question of ransom, of that she was positive. She must getback somehow to the others and arrange terms. It was an annoyance, ofcourse, but after all it added a certain piquancy to her trip, it wouldbe an experience. It was only a "hold-up." She did not suppose theArabs had even really meant to hurt any one, but they were excited andsome one's shot, aimed wide, had found an unexpected billet. It couldonly be that. It was too near Biskra for any real danger, she arguedwith herself, still straining on the reins. She would not admit thatthere was any danger, though her heart was beating in a way that it hadnever done before. Then as she hauled ineffectually at the bridle withall her strength there came from behind her the sound of a long, s
hrillwhistle. Her horse pricked up his ears and she was conscious that hispace sensibly lessened. Instinctively she looked behind. A solitaryArab was riding after her and as she looked she realised that his horsewas gaining on hers. The thought drove every idea of stopping herrunaway from her and made her dig her spurs into him instead. There wasa sinister air of deliberation in the way in which the Arab wasfollowing her; he was riding her down.

  Diana's mouth closed firmly and a new keenness came into her steadyeyes. It was one thing to go back voluntarily to make terms with themen who had attacked her party; it was quite another thing to bedeliberately chased across the desert by an Arab freebooter. Herobstinate chin was almost square. Then the shadow of a laugh flickeredin her eyes and curved her mouth. New experiences were crowding in uponher to-day. She had often wondered what the feelings of a huntedcreature were. She seemed in a fair way of finding out. She had alwaysstoutly maintained that the fox enjoyed the run as much as the hounds;that remained to be proved, but, in any case, she would give this hounda run for his money. She could ride, and there seemed plenty yet in thefrightened animal under her. She bent down, lying low against his neckwith a little, reckless laugh, coaxing him with all her knowledge andspurring him alternately. But soon her mood changed. She frownedanxiously as she looked at the last rays of the setting sun. It wouldbe dark very soon. She could not go chasing through the night with thistiresome Arab at her heels. The humour seemed to have died out of thesituation and Diana began to get angry. In the level country thatsurrounded her there were no natural features that could afford coveror aid in any way; there seemed nothing for it but to own herselfdefeated and pull up--if she could. An idea of trying to dodge him andof returning of her own free will was dismissed at once as hopeless.She had seen enough in her short glimpse of the Arabs' tactics whenthey had passed her to know that she was dealing with a finishedhorseman on a perfectly trained horse, and that her idea could neversucceed. But, perversely, she felt that to that particular Arabfollowing 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. Perhapsit 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 itsspeed; it was responding clearly to a signal that it knew. Her guide'sreluctance to give any particulars of his acquisition of the horse cameback to her. There could not be much doubt about it. The animal hadunquestionably been stolen, and either belonged to or was known to theparty of Arabs who had met them.

  The _naivete_ that paraded a stolen horse through the desert atthe risk of meeting its former owner made her smile in spite of herannoyance, but it was not a pleasant smile, as her thoughts turned fromthe horse to its present owner. The sum of Mustafa Ali's delinquencieswas mounting up fast. But it was his affair, not hers. In the meantimeshe had paid for the horse to ride through the desert, not to bewaylaid by Arab bandits. Her temper was going fast.

  She urged the horse on with all her power, but perceptibly he wasslowing up. She flashed another backward look. The Arab was closebehind her--closer than she had been aware. She had a momentary glimpseof a big white figure, dark piercing eyes, and white gleaming teeth,and passionate rage filled her. With no thought of what theconsequences or retaliation might be, with no thought at all beyond awild desire to rid herself of her pursuer, driven by a sudden madnesswhich seemed to rise up in her and which she could not control, sheclutched her revolver and fired twice, full in the face of the man whowas following her. He did not even flinch and a low laugh of amusementcame from him. And at the sound of his laugh Diana's mouth parchedsuddenly, and a cold shiver rippled across her spine. A strange feelingthat she had never experienced before went through her. She had missedagain as she had missed this morning. How, she did not know; it wasinexplicable, but it was a fact, and a fact that left her with afeeling of powerlessness. She dropped the useless revolver, tryingvainly to force her horse's pace, but inch by inch the fiery chestnutthat the Arab was riding crept up nearer alongside. She would not turnto look again, but glancing sideways she could see its small,wicked-looking head, with flat laid ears and vicious, bloodshot eyes,level with her elbow. For a moment or two it remained there, then witha sudden spurt the chestnut forged ahead, and as it shot past itswerved close in beside her, and the man, rising in his stirrups andleaning towards her, flung a pair of powerful arms around her, and,with a jerk, swung her clear of the saddle and on to his own horse infront of him. His movement had been so quick she was unprepared andunable to resist. For a moment she was stunned, then her senses cameback to her and she struggled wildly, but, stifled in the thick foldsof the Arab's robes, against which her face was crushed, and held in agrip that seemed to be slowly suffocating her, her struggles werefutile. The hard, muscular arm round her hurt her acutely, her ribsseemed to be almost breaking under its weight and strength, it wasnearly impossible to breathe with the close contact of his body. Shewas unusually strong for a girl, but against this steely strength thatheld her she was helpless. And for a time the sense of her helplessnessand the pain that any resistance to the arm wrapped round her gave hermade her lie quiet. She felt the Arab check his horse, felt thechestnut wheel, spinning high on his hind legs, and then bound forwardagain.

  Her feelings were indescribable. She did not know what to think. Hermind felt jarred. She was unable to frame any thoughts coherently. Whathad happened was so unexpected, so preposterous, that no conclusionseemed adequate. Only rage filled her--blind, passionate rage againstthe man who had dared to touch her, who had dared to lay his hands onher, and those hands the hands of a native. A shiver of revulsion ranthrough her. She was choking with fury, with anger and with disgust.The ignominy of her plight hurt her pride badly. She had beenoutridden, swept from her saddle as if she were a puppet, and compelledto bear the proximity of the man's own hateful body and the restraintof his arms. No one had ever dared to touch her before. No one had everdared to handle her as she was being handled now. How was it going toend? Where were they going? With her face hidden she had lost all senseof direction. She had no idea to what point the horse had turned whenhe had wheeled so suddenly. He was galloping swiftly with continualdisconcerting bounds that indicated either temper or nerves, but theman riding him seemed in no way disturbed by his horse's behavior. Shecould feel him swaying easily in the saddle, and even the wildest leapsdid not cause any slackening of the arm around her.

  But by degrees as she continued to lie still the pressure on her bodywas relieved slightly, and she was able to turn her head a littletowards the air for which she was almost fainting, but not enough toenable her to see what was passing around her. She drank in the coolair eagerly. Though she could not see she knew that the night had come,the night that she had hoped would fall before she reached herdestination, but which now seemed horrible. The fresh strength that theair gave her fanned the courage that still remained with her.Collecting all her force she made a sudden desperate spring, trying toleap clear of the arm that now lay almost loosely about her, herspurred heels tearing the chestnut's flank until he rearedperpendicularly, snorting and trembling. But with a quick sweep of hislong arm the Arab gathered her back into his hold, still strugglingfiercely. His arms were both round her; he was controlling the maddenedhorse only with the pressure of his knees.

  "Doucement, doucement." She heard the slow, soft voice indistinctly,for he was pressing her head again closely to him, and she did not knowif the words were applied to herself or to the horse. She fought tolift her head, to escape the grip that held her, straining, strivinguntil he spoke again.

  "Lie still, you little fool!" he snarled with sudden vehemence, andwith brutal hands he forced her to obey him, until she wondered if hewould leave a single bone unbroken in her body, till further resistancewas impossible. Gasping for breath she yielded to the strength thatoverpowered her, and ceased to struggle. The man seemed to knowintuitively that
she was beaten, and turned his undivided attention tohis horse with the same low laugh of amusement that had sent thestrange feeling through her when her shots had missed him. It hadpuzzled her then, but it grew now with a horrible intensity, until sheknew that it was fear that had come to her for the first time in herlife--a strange fear that she fought against desperately, but which wasgaining on her with a force that was sapping her strength from her andmaking her head reel. She did not faint, but her whole body seemed togrow nerveless with the sudden realisation of the horror of herposition.

  After that Diana lost all sense of time, as she had already lost allsense of direction. She did not know if it was minutes or hours thatpassed as they still galloped swiftly through the night. She did notknow if they were alone or if the band of Arabs to which this manbelonged were riding with them, noiseless over the soft ground. Whathad happened to her guide and his men? Had they been butchered and leftwhere they fell, or were they, too, being hurried unwillingly into someobscure region of the desert? But for the moment the fate of MustafaAli and his companions did not trouble her very much; they had notplayed a very valiant part in the short encounter, and her ownsituation swamped her mind to the exclusion of everything else.

  The sense of fear was growing on her. She scorned and derided it. Shetried to convince herself it did not exist, but it did exist, torturingher with its strangeness and with the thoughts that it engendered. Shehad anticipated nothing like this. She had never thought of acontingency that would end so, that would induce a situation beforewhich her courage was shuddering into pieces with the horror that wasopening up before her--a thing that had always seemed a remoteimpossibility that could never touch her, from even the knowledge ofwhich her life with Aubrey had almost shielded her, but which nowloomed near her, forcing its reality upon her till she trembled andgreat drops of moisture gathered on her forehead.

  The Arab moved her position once, roughly, but she was glad of thechange for it freed her head from the stifling folds of his robes. Hedid not speak again--only once when the chestnut shied violently hemuttered something under his breath. But her satisfaction wasshort-lived. A few minutes afterwards his arm tightened round her oncemore and he twined a fold of his long cloak round her head, blindingher. And then she understood. The galloping horse was pulled in withalmost the same suddenness that had amazed her when she had first seenthe Arabs. She felt him draw her close into his arms and slip down onto the ground; there were voices around her--confused, unintelligible;then they died away as she felt him carry her a few paces. He set herdown and unwound the covering from her face. The light that shonearound her seemed by contrast dazzling with the darkness that had gonebefore. Confused, she clasped her hands over her eyes for a moment andthen looked up slowly. She was in a big, lofty tent, brightly lit bytwo hanging lamps. But she took no heed of her surroundings; her eyeswere fixed on the man who had brought her there. He had flung aside theheavy cloak that enveloped him from head to foot and was standingbefore her, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in white flowing robes,a waistcloth embroidered in black and silver wound several times abouthim, and from the top of which showed a revolver that was thrust intothe 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 wasthe handsomest and cruellest face that she had ever seen. Her gaze wasdrawn instinctively to his. He was looking at her with fierce burningeyes that swept her until she felt that the boyish clothes that coveredher slender limbs were stripped from her, leaving the beautiful whitebody bare under his passionate stare.

  She shrank back, quivering, dragging the lapels of her riding jackettogether over her breast with clutching hands, obeying an impulse thatshe 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 hadspoken without thinking in French, and in French he replied to her.

  "Why have you brought me here?" she asked, fighting down the fear thatwas 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 thatreceded immediately, leaving her whiter than she had been before. Hereyes fell under the kindling flame in his. "I don't know what youmean," she whispered faintly, with shaking lips.

  "I think you do." He laughed softly, and his laugh frightened her morethan anything he had said. He came towards her, and although she wasswaying on her feet, desperately she tried to evade him, but with aquick movement he caught her in his arms.

  Terror, agonising, soul-shaking terror such as she had never imagined,took hold of her. The flaming light of desire burning in his eyesturned her sick and faint. Her body throbbed with the consciousness ofa knowledge that appalled her. She understood his purpose with a horrorthat made each separate nerve in her system shrink against theunderstanding that had come to her under the consuming fire of hisardent gaze, and in the fierce embrace that was drawing her shakinglimbs closer and closer against the man's own pulsating body. Shewrithed in his arms as he crushed her to him in a sudden access ofpossessive passion. His head bent slowly down to her, his eyes burneddeeper, and, held immovable, she endured the first kiss she had everreceived. And the touch of his scorching lips, the clasp of his arms,the close union with his warm, strong body robbed her of all strength,of all power of resistance.

  With a great sob her eyes closed wearily, the hot mouth pressed on herswas like a narcotic, drugging her almost into insensibility. Numbly shefelt him gather her high up into his arms, his lips still clingingclosely, and carry her across the tent through curtains into anadjoining room. He laid her down on soft cushions. "Do not make me waittoo long," he whispered, and left her.

  And the whispered words sent a shock through her that seemed to wrenchher deadened nerves apart, galvanising her into sudden strength. Shesprang up with wild, despairing eyes, and hands clenched franticallyacross her heaving breast; then, with a bitter cry, she dropped on tothe floor, her arms flung out across the wide, luxurious bed. It wasnot true! It was not true! It could not be--this awful thing that hadhappened to her--not to her, Diana Mayo! It was a dream, a ghastlydream that would pass and free her from this agony. Shuddering, sheraised her head. The strange room swam before her eyes. Oh, God! It wasnot a dream. It was real, it was an actual fact from which there was noescape. She was trapped, powerless, defenceless, and behind the heavycurtains near her was the man waiting to claim what he had taken. Anymoment he might come; the thought sent her shivering closer to theground with limbs that trembled uncontrollably. Her courage, that hadfaced dangers and even death without flinching, broke down before thehorror that awaited her. It was inevitable; there was no help to beexpected, no mercy to be hoped for. She had felt the crushing strengthagainst which she was helpless. She would struggle, but it would beuseless; she would fight, but it would make no difference. Within thetent she was alone, ready to his hand like a snared animal; without,the place was swarming with the man's followers. There was nowhere shecould turn, there was no one she could turn to. The certainty of theaccomplishment of what she dreaded crushed her with its surety. Allpower of action was gone. She could only wait and suffer in thecomplete moral collapse that overwhelmed her, and that was renderedgreater by her peculiar temperament. Her body was aching with the gripof his powerful arms, her mouth was bruised with his savage kisses. Sheclenched her hands in anguish. "Oh, God!" she sobbed, with scaldingtears that scorched her cheeks. "Curse him! Curse him!"

  And with the words on her lips he came, silent, noiseless, to her side.With his hands on her shoulders he forced her to her feet. His eyeswere fierce, his stern mouth parted in a cruel smile, his deep, slowvoice half angry, half impatiently amused. "Must I be valet, as well aslover?"