She was of those for whom great danger holds no terror. Thrice blessed indeed are they upon whom that great tranquillity descends in the midst of danger; who, steadied and exhilarated by peril, help those around them by their unwavering calm.
She stood, with the dead man at her feet, waiting to help the living man she loved as he fell back slowly towards her, fighting desperately.
Where the men met they fought without quarter, regardless of the hammering hoofs, the tearing teeth, the foam and blood and welter of the animals. Stripped to the waist, black with grime, fighting at such close quarters that he could scarce tell friend from foe, Trenchard fought, using the butt-end of his revolver, with Abdul by his side, whilst the Bedouins approached nearer and nearer, unseen on account of the smoke, unheard in the din.
“Thy wife!” shouted Zarah, leaning towards Al-Asad and pointing to Helen, who stood alone with her back towards them, nauseated at the sight of a bay mare and a wounded camel in death grips. The camel had reared and flung itself upon the mare, meeting its teeth just below her ears, whilst she, lashing out until great rents were torn in the dying camel’s belly, tried vainly to free herself from the paralysis which crept over her through the vice-like grip upon her spine.
“Bism ’allah!” yelled Al-Asad, as Helen raised her rifle. “Behold! is she the maid to be the mother of sons? Let us take her to blind Yussuf as his part of the spoil.” He yelled again in sheer admiration as a double report rang out and the fighting beasts dropped; then rode down upon Helen as she reloaded, and lifting her, swung her, fighting like a tiger, across the saddle.
He laughed exultantly as he held her down, pressing her hands against her neck with his left hand until she was almost suffocated, and her knees down with his right hand, whilst his horse, guided by the pressure of his knees, raced back to where Zarah waited, laughing and shouting remarks which, fortunately, were not heard above the uproar.
“Behold, she is for thee—thy mate,” she cried; “and I—look thou—look—look—behold my mate, alone amongst wolves.” Al-Asad, who could hear no word of what she said, looked to where she pointed, then laughed savagely when she screamed in an agony of fear.
It happened in a second.
Flames suddenly burst from the tent to the east, leaping to the very sky, against which, for one instant, Ralph Trenchard, with Abdul at his side, stood out clearly.
Zarah leant forward, revolver in hand, and fired—too late. From out the heap of dead and dying the spy had sprung, felling Ralph Trenchard to the ground with a blow from the handle of a throwing knife behind the ear, to fall himself with Abdul’s knife in his side.