“Do you really want to go back?” said the girl, looking at her searchingly.
“Yes, yes; oh yes,” was the reply. “I’ll give you anything to help me away. You shall be made rich, and I will care for you and love you like a sister, only save me from this man.”
The girl fixed her great dark eyes upon Helen’s, and seemed to be trying to read her thoughts.
“It is very strange!” she said at last.
“What is strange? That I should ask you to save me?”
“No,” said the girl, dreamily; “that anyone should be able to hate Murad. He has been cruel to me, but I could never hate him, even though others have talked to me and tried to get my love. Hamet has loved me, he tells me, and that he is unhappy because I am cold; but I could never hate Murad, and the more cruel he is to me, the more he seems to have my love.”
“But it troubles you that he should make love to me?”
“Yes,” hissed the girl, fiercely. “It makes me mad.”
“Then help me to escape; help me to get away,” cried Helen, clinging to her passionately.
“And if I do he will kill me,” sighed the girl.