"I can't ride with you to-day. I am going to meet Saint Hubert. His
courier only came an hour ago. It is two years since I have seen him."
Diana slipped off the couch and went to the open doorway. A detachment
of men were already waiting for him, and, close by the tent, Shaitan of
the ugly temper was biting and fidgeting in the hands of the grooms.
She scowled at the beautiful, wicked creature's flat-laid ears and
rolling eyes. She would have backed him fearlessly herself if the Sheik
had let her, but she was nervous for him every time he rode the vicious
beast. No one but the Sheik could manage him, and though she knew that
he had perfect mastery over the horse, she never lost the feeling of
nervousness, a sensation the old Diana had never, never experienced,
and she wished to-day that it had been any other horse but Shaitan
waiting for him.
She went back to him slowly. "It makes my head ache, to stay in all
day. May Gaston not ride with me?" she asked diffidently, her eyes
anywhere but on his face. He had not allowed her to ride with any one
except himself since her attempted escape, and to her tentative
suggestions that the rides with the valet might be resumed he had given
a prompt refusal. He hesitated now, and she was afraid he was going to
refuse again, and she looked up wistfully. "Please, Monseigneur," she
whispered humbly.
He looked at her for a moment with his chin squarer than usual. "Are
you going to run away again?" he asked bluntly.
Her eyes filled slowly with tears, and she turned her head away to hide
them. "No, I am not going to run away again," she said very low.
"Very well, I will tell him. He will be delighted, le bon
Gaston. He is your very willing slave in spite of the trick you played
him. He has a beautiful nature, le pauvre diable. He is not an
Arab, eh, little Diane?" The mocking smile was back in his eyes as he
turned her face up to his in the usual peremptory way. Then he held out
the revolver he had been cleaning with sudden seriousness. "I want you
to carry this always now when you ride. Ibraheim Omair is still in the
neighbourhood."
She looked at it blankly.
"But----" she stammered.
He knew what was in her mind, and he stooped and kissed her lightly. "I
trust you," he said quietly, and went out.