The Sheik

"Come here," he repeated sharply.

Still she took no notice, but the face that he could not see was

growing very white.

"I am not accustomed to having my orders disobeyed," he said at last,

very slowly.

"And I am not accustomed to obeying orders," she retorted fiercely,

though her lips were trembling.

"You will learn." The sinister accent of his voice almost shattered her

remaining courage.

She crouched, gasping, on the ground, the same horrible terror that had

come to her last night stealing over her irresistibly, paralysing her.

Waiting, listening, agonising, the tom-tom growing louder and

louder--or was it only the throbbing in her own head? With a choking

cry she leaped to her feet suddenly and fled from him, back till the

side of the tent stopped her and she stood, with wide-flung arms,

gripping the black and silver hangings until he reached her.

Stooping he disengaged her clinging fingers from the heavy drapery and

drew her hands slowly together up to his breast with a little smile.

"Come," he whispered, his passionate eyes devouring her.

She fought against the fascination with which they dominated her,

resisting him dumbly with tight-locked lips till he held her

palpitating in his arms.

"Little fool," he said with a deepening smile. "Better me than my men."

The gibe broke her silence.

"Oh, you brute! You brute!" she wailed, until his kisses silenced her.