“I know; it is my horse. Well, I love him, but I give him gladly. He is yours. Get well quickly, and you shall ride.”
“No, no, rajah,” I cried, unable to repress a feeling of emotion at his generosity, which was indeed princely; “indeed it was not that.”
He looked at me gently, and said slowly—
“Name what you wish;” and he passed his hand over the great emeralds and diamonds sparkling about his throat, breast, and turban.
I involuntarily followed his hand as it played about the gems, conscious the while that, in spite of his gentle smile, he was watching me very keenly.
“Is it any or all of these?” he said. “I will give them freely to my friend.”
“No,” I cried eagerly; “it is something greater to me than all you have offered.”
“And what is that?” he said, with his eyes half-closed.
“Give me my liberty, and let me go to my friends.”
He took my extended hand and held it, as he said softly—