The Sheik

Only a few hours before he had come to her in all the magnificence of

his strength. She looked at the long limbs lying now so still, so

terribly, suggestively still, and her lips trembled again, but her

pain-filled eyes were dry. She could not cry, only her throat ached and

throbbed perpetually. She leaned over him whispering his name, and a

sudden hunger came to her to touch him, to convince herself that he was

not dead. She glanced back over her shoulder at Saint Hubert, but he

had gone to the open doorway to speak to Yusef, and was standing out

under the awning. She bent lower over the unconscious man; his lips

were parted slightly, and the usual sternness of his mouth was relaxed.

"Ahmed, oh, my dear!" she whispered unsteadily, and kissed him with

lips that quivered against the stillness of his. Then for a moment she

dropped her bright head beside the bandaged one on the pillow, but when

the Vicomte came back she was kneeling where he had left her, her hands

clasped over one of the Sheik's and her face hidden against the

cushions.

Saint Hubert put his hand on her shoulder. "Diane, you are torturing

yourself unnecessarily. We cannot know for some time how it will go

with him. Try and get some sleep for a few hours. You can do no good by

staying here. Henri and I will watch. I will call you if there is any

change, my word of honour."

She shook her head without looking up. "I can't go. I couldn't sleep."

Saint Hubert did not press it. "Very well," he said quietly, "but if

you are going to stay you must take off your riding-boots and put on

something more comfortable than those clothes."

She realised the sense of what he was saying, and obeyed him without a

word. She even had to admit to herself a certain sensation of relief

after she had bathed her aching head and throat, and substituted a

thin, silk wrap for the torn, stained riding-suit.

Henri was pouring out coffee when she came back, and Saint Hubert

turned to her with a cup in his outstretched hand. "Please take it. It

will do you good," he said, with a little smile that was not reflected

in his anxious eyes.

She took it unheeding, and, swallowing it hastily, went to the side of

the divan again. She slid down on to the rug where she had knelt

before. The Sheik was lying as she had left him. For a few moments she

looked at him, then drowsily her eyes closed and her head fell forward

on the cushions, and with a half-sad smile of satisfaction Saint Hubert

gathered her up into his arms.