The Sheik

A thin thread of smoke drifted towards her, as if the hand holding the

cigarette had moved in her direction in one of the gestures that she

had noticed outside, but there was no answer. His silence infuriated

her and she grew utterly reckless.

"Do you think that you can keep me here, you fool? That I can vanish

into the desert and no notice be taken of my disappearance--that no

inquiries will be made?"

"There will be no inquiries," he answered calmly.

She ground the heel of her boot into the soft carpet. "There

will be inquiries," she choked furiously. "I am not such a

nonentity that nothing will be done when I am missed. The English

authorities will make the French Government find out who is

responsible, and you will have to pay for what you have done."

He laughed--the little amused laugh that sent the same cold feeling of

dread through her that she had felt the day before.

"The French Government has no jurisdiction over me. I am not subject to

it. I am an independent chief, my own master. I recognise no

government. My tribe obey me and only me."

Her shaking fingers found the handkerchief for which they were groping,

and she wiped the moisture that had gathered on the palms of her hands.

"When I am missed----" she began desperately, trying to keep a bold

front, but her assurance was leaving her.

"You will not be missed for so long that it will be too late," he

replied drily.

"Too late! What do you mean?" she gasped.

"Your own plans will stop any possibility of inquiry for some time to

come." He paused, and behind her, Diana heard him strike another match.

The banal little incident nearly snapped her nerves that were stretched

to breaking-point. She put her hands to her head to try and stop the

throbbing in her temples.

"You engaged a caravan in charge of Mustafa Ali," he went on evenly,

"to travel in the desert for a month. You set out from Biskra, but your

intention was at the end of the time to travel northward to Oran and

there dismiss the caravan. From there you were to cross to Marseilles,

then to Cherbourg, where you would embark for America to follow your

brother, who has already started."

She listened breathlessly with an ever-increasing fear growing in her

eyes. The slow, casual voice detailing her itinerary with the quiet

certainty of perfect knowledge filled her with a terror that made her

want to scream. She swayed a little as she stood, her eyes fixed on the

endless strip of desert and gold-flecked sky visible through the

opening of the tent, but she saw nothing of the undulating sand, nor

the red glory of the setting sun.