“No,” he answered, “you are more beautiful and more dangerous than any wild creature.”
Rachel looked at him. Then she made as though she would pass him, saying that she was going home. Now Ishmael stood between two rocks filling the only egress from this place.
He stretched out his arms so that his fingers touched the rocks on either side, and said:
“You can’t. You must listen to me first. I came here to say what I have wanted to tell you for a long time. I love you, and I ask you to marry me.”
“Indeed,” she replied, setting her face. “How can that be? I understood that you were already married—several times over.”
“Who told you that?” he asked, angrily. “I know—that accursed little witch, Noie.”
“Don’t speak any ill of Noie, please; she is my friend.”
“Then you have a liar for your friend. Those women are only my servants.”
“It doesn’t matter to me what they are, Mr. Ishmael. I have no wish to know your private affairs. Shall we stop this talk, which is not pleasant?”
“No,” he answered. “I tell you that I love you and I mean to marry you, with your will or without it. Let it be with your will, Rachel,” he added, pleadingly, “for I will make you a good husband. Also I am well-born, much better than you think, and I am rich, rich enough to take you out of this country, if you like. I have thousands of cattle, and a great deal of money put by, good English gold that I have got from the sale of ivory. You shall come with me from among all these savage people back to England, and live as you like.”