“I knew you would say that,” he replied, mockingly. “I knew that you would assume to be very angry. You coquettes, as you English people call them, always do; and then, when all your angry, cruel things are said, you become tender, and gentle, and sweet. I do not mind.”
Helen stamped her foot with impotent rage, as she felt how justly she had been appraised by this half-savage prince; but she could find no words in reply.
“Your people thought me contented, and that peace was made,” he said, laughing. “I know all. There was a terrible state of fright at first, when you refused my hand. I know all, you see. Your people armed themselves and kept watch. ‘The people of Murad will attack us, and take revenge,’ you said, ‘and we shall be all crushed;’ and so you armed yourselves. Then you all feared to go to the fête lest there should be treachery, and I was watched; but they did not know my ways. I meant to have revenge; but what good would the blood of all your people be to me? That was not the revenge I wanted. I could wait, and I have waited with the result you see. There, is that good English? Do you understand these my words well?”
Helen did not answer, but stood there proud and defiant, though her heart quailed as she listened, and thought of the patient way in which this man had waited his time.
“I have had patience,” he said, with a calm smile of superiority, which changed, to her horror, to one of earnestness, almost of appeal.
“You do not speak,” he continued. “Must I say more—must I tell you how I loved you with all my soul! You made me love you, and were not content until I did. You led me on; you smiled at me, and lured me to your side. Your eyes told me you delighted in the passion you had roused, and you seemed to triumph in making me your slave. Then I asked you to be my wife, and I was cast aside, thrown off to make room for another, and I awoke from my dream to find that I had only been a plaything of your mocking hour. I was only a Malay—a black as your people call me in their contempt—and your father and all your people laughed at my pretensions to an English lady’s hand. You all told me by your looks and treatment that I was presuming on the kindness I had received; but do you think that, though I bent to it then, as if you and yours were right, that I, an Eastern Prince, would bear this treatment at your hands? No; I planted my revenge at once, like some tiny seed, and since have watched it grow hour by hour till it was time to cut it down ripe and ready to my hand.”
“Do you hear my words, sir?” said Helen, contemptuously. “I order you to take me back.”
“The slave orders her master to take her back,” said Murad, quietly. “You English think you have power over all.”
“How dare you call me slave!” she cried.
“I call you what you are,” he said, calmly; “my wife if you will; if not, one of my lowest slaves. I was your slave once, and would have been to the end. Now you are mine.”