“A prisoner!” ejaculated Tarzan incredulously.
“A slave would be the better word,” she answered. “I was stolen in the night from my father’s douar by a band of marauders. They brought me here and sold me to the Arab who keeps this café. It has been nearly two years now since I saw the last of mine own people. They are very far to the south. They never come to Sidi Aissa.”
“You would like to return to your people?” asked Tarzan. “Then I shall promise to see you safely so far as Bou Saada at least. There we can doubtless arrange with the commandant to send you the rest of the way.”
“Oh, m’sieur,” she cried, “how can I ever repay you! You cannot really mean that you will do so much for a poor Ouled-Nail. But my father can reward you, and he will, for is he not a great sheik? He is Kadour ben Saden.”
“Kadour ben Saden!” ejaculated Tarzan. “Why, Kadour ben Saden is in Sidi Aissa this very night. He dined with me but a few hours since.”
“My father in Sidi Aissa?” cried the amazed girl. “Allah be praised then, for I am indeed saved.”
“Hssh!” cautioned Abdul. “Listen.”
From below came the sound of voices, quite distinguishable upon the still night air. Tarzan could not understand the words, but Abdul and the girl translated.
“They have gone now,” said the latter. “It is you they want, m’sieur. One of them said that the stranger who had offered money for your slaying lay in the house of Akmed din Soulef with a broken wrist, but that he had offered a still greater reward if some would lay in wait for you upon the road to Bou Saada and kill you.”
“It is he who followed m’sieur about the market today,” exclaimed Abdul. “I saw him again within the café—him and another; and the two went out into the inner court after talking with this girl here. It was they who attacked and fired upon us, as we came out of the café. Why do they wish to kill you, m’sieur?”