She gazed with fierce and angry eyes straight into her captor’s face, and thus for some moments they remained till he raised his hand.
“Well,” she said, “you have taken me.”
“Yes; at last,” he replied, in the same low voice as that in which the captured girl had spoken.
Involuntarily the Malay girl’s eyes turned towards her companion, but she closed them directly, believing that Helen had not been seen.
“Yes, she is there,” he said, in a low whisper. “I saw her before I saw you.”
“And now you are going to drag us back to Murad?” said the girl, adopting his tone. “How proud Hamet must feel now that he has become a slave-catcher!”
“I did not say I was going to take you back to Murad,” he said, laughing. “Do you wish me to take you back to have the kris?”
The girl shuddered, for she knew that this would be her fate; but with true Eastern spirit she recovered herself.
“What matter?” she said, indifferently. “I do not mind.”
“You do mind,” he said; “and you want to live.”