The Sheik

She dared not look behind, but straight ahead

before her, riding with all her skill, hauling the grey round perilous

corners and bending lower and lower in the saddle to aid him. In her

terror she had forgotten what a little distance the hills stretched

from where she had entered them, and blindly she turned into the track

by which she had come, leaving the main hills on her right hand and

emerging on to the open desert on the south side of the range. There

was nothing now but the sheer speed of her horse to save her, and how

long could she count on it? Then with a little glimmer of hope she

remembered that the Sheik was riding The Hawk, own brother to the grey,

and she knew that neither had ever outpaced the other. She had ridden

hard all day, but it was probable that Ahmed Ben Hassan had ridden

harder; he never spared his horses, and his weight was considerably

greater than hers. Would it not be possible for Silver Star, carrying

the lighter burden, to outdistance The Hawk? It was a chance. She would

take it, but she would never give in. The perspiration was rolling down

her face and her breath was coming laboriously. Suddenly, a few minutes

after she had left the hills behind, the Sheik's deep voice came

clearly across the space between them.

"If you do not stop I will shoot your horse. I give you one minute."

She swayed a little in the saddle, clutching the grey's neck to steady

herself and for a moment she closed her eyes, but she did not falter

for an instant. She would not stop; nothing on earth should make her

stop now. Only, because she knew the man, she kicked her feet clear of

the stirrups. He had said he would shoot and he would shoot, and if the

grey shied or swerved a hair's breadth she would probably receive the

bullet that was meant for him. Better that! Yes, even better that!

Silver Star tore on headlong and the minute seemed a lifetime. Then

before even she heard the report he bounded in the air and fell with a

crash. Diana was flung far forward and landed on some soft sand. For a

moment she was stunned by the fall, then she staggered dizzily to her

feet and stumbled back to the prostrate horse. He was lashing out

wildly with his heels, making desperate efforts to rise. And as she

reached him the black horse dashed up alongside, stopping suddenly, and

rearing straight up. The Sheik leaped to the ground and ran towards

her. He caught her wrist and flung her out of his way, and she lay

where she had fallen, every nerve in her body quivering. She was beaten

and with the extinguishing of her last hope all her courage failed her.

She gave way to sheer, overwhelming terror, utterly cowed. Every

faculty was suspended, swallowed up in the one dominating force, the

dread of his voice and the dread of the touch of his hands. She heard a

second report and knew that he had put Silver Star out of his misery,

and then, in a few seconds, his voice beside her. She got up

unsteadily, shrinking from him.