The Sheik

For a moment or two it remained there, then with

a sudden spurt the chestnut forged ahead, and as it shot past it

swerved close in beside her, and the man, rising in his stirrups and

leaning 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 in

front of him. His movement had been so quick she was unprepared and

unable to resist. For a moment she was stunned, then her senses came

back to her and she struggled wildly, but, stifled in the thick folds

of the Arab's robes, against which her face was crushed, and held in a

grip that seemed to be slowly suffocating her, her struggles were

futile. The hard, muscular arm round her hurt her acutely, her ribs

seemed to be almost breaking under its weight and strength, it was

nearly impossible to breathe with the close contact of his body. She

was unusually strong for a girl, but against this steely strength that

held her she was helpless. And for a time the sense of her helplessness

and the pain that any resistance to the arm wrapped round her gave her

made her lie quiet. She felt the Arab check his horse, felt the

chestnut wheel, spinning high on his hind legs, and then bound forward

again.

Her feelings were indescribable. She did not know what to think. Her

mind felt jarred. She was unable to frame any thoughts coherently. What

had happened was so unexpected, so preposterous, that no conclusion

seemed adequate. Only rage filled her--blind, passionate rage against

the man who had dared to touch her, who had dared to lay his hands on

her, and those hands the hands of a native. A shiver of revulsion ran

through her. She was choking with fury, with anger and with disgust.

The ignominy of her plight hurt her pride badly. She had been

outridden, swept from her saddle as if she were a puppet, and compelled

to bear the proximity of the man's own hateful body and the restraint

of his arms. No one had ever dared to touch her before. No one had ever

dared to handle her as she was being handled now. How was it going to

end? Where were they going? With her face hidden she had lost all sense

of direction. She had no idea to what point the horse had turned when

he had wheeled so suddenly. He was galloping swiftly with continual

disconcerting bounds that indicated either temper or nerves, but the

man riding him seemed in no way disturbed by his horse's behavior. She

could feel him swaying easily in the saddle, and even the wildest leaps

did not cause any slackening of the arm around her.