“Then come with me and let my people protect you,” whispered Helen, excitedly. “Why should you stay here when I can give you a happier and better home?”
“Happier! better!” said the girl. “No; there is no life for me that could be happier when he is kind. There can be no better place than this.”
Helen passed her arm round her, for there was something beautiful in the girl’s faith and love for the tyrant who abused her affection at every turn; and the girl, feeling the unusual caress, turned to her lovingly.
“Tell me once again,” she said, “that you really mean it—that you would be glad to go,” and she looked searchingly in Helen’s eyes.
“I would sooner die than stay,” cried Helen, who had to repeat her words twice before she could make herself understood.
“Then let me think,” said the girl, quietly; “let me think how it can be done, for we should like to live and be happy once again.”
“As we shall be, if you help me to escape and come with me and share my home. Let us steal down to a boat as soon as it is dark, and then we can soon reach the great river by floating with the stream.”
The girl smiled sadly.
“You forget,” she said, “Murad’s people will watch us, for we are prisoners now.”
There was no doubt about this being the case, for door and window were securely fastened, as the girl showed with a smile, becoming very thoughtful directly after, and making impatient gestures every time Helen tried to draw her into conversation.