And so the day wore on, with the prisoner’s heart sinking as she saw the approach of night.
It was just at the time when her spirits were at their lowest ebb that the girl turned to her suddenly and caught her by the arm.
“I have been thinking,” she said, “and you shall go free.”
She spoke in her own tongue, and Helen had great difficulty in comprehending her, but the peril sharpened her understanding; and by making the girl repeat her words, she arrived at a pretty correct interpretation.
“And you will go with me?” whispered Helen, eagerly.
“A little while ago I felt that I could never leave Murad; but he is cruel, and he loves me no longer now. I will go.”
Helen’s heart throbbed with joy, as she caught the girl to her breast and kissed her passionately, loosing her though directly, for the door was suddenly opened, and they saw a group of four women standing there, evidently bearing food.
“Come and fetch it,” said one of them to Helen’s companion, for they did not attempt to enter the room.
The girl left Helen and went to the door, to return, bringing the materials for a respectable meal, returning again for water and palm wine, with vessels for drinking, and once more returning for the fruit that the women produced.
Helen was watching their movements intently and suspiciously, she hardly knew why, when suddenly, as the girl was taking a bunch of plantains from one of the women, another threw her arms round her neck and clasped her tightly, with the result that the others seized her as well; there was a slight struggle, the door was slammed to, and as Helen ran to it with throbbing heart, she heard the noise of renewed struggling, the excited angry cries of her poor companion, and these seemed to be dying away for a time, and then to suddenly end as if they had been stifled.