"The Kourds! They are pursuing us," said Shushan, sitting up. Terror had restored her senses more rapidly than all the arts of love could have done.
"Another set of them?" asked Jack, bewildered.
"No. The Kourds of Charmelik," said Shushan in a frightened whisper. "I feared it. They heard us speak, and knew we were no Kourds." Even in that moment's agony she said "heard us speak," as Jack remembered afterwards,—lest he should blame himself.
"I will run round the corner, and look," he said. "Do you fear a moment alone, my Shushan?"
"No; but take care. Keep under cover of the hill."
Jack ran to a turn that gave him a view of the road from Charmelik. As far as he could see along the track no creature was visible. But high up on the hill he saw dark forms, descending, doubtless by some goat-track known to themselves alone. They could reach Shushan almost as soon as he could.
He tore back to her, possessed with the thought that he would set her on horseback, and make a race for it. But when he came near, he saw their horses had moved away, and were both out of sight.
The shouts sounded nearer and nearer; he saw the flash of a gun, and heard the report.
"Shack!" said Shushan. She was still sitting on the ground, having sprained her ankle in the fall. "Shack!"
He bent down to her. He had been looking to his revolver, and held it in his hand. "If the worst comes," she said, "you will kill me with that—promise."