She sat quite still, staring at the portrait she held of the man she loved, then she gave a little sigh of intense satisfaction and laughed gently as she looked across at Helen, who stared in amazement and stretched out her hand.
“What an extraordinary thing,” she said simply; “it must have got caught and been hidden all the time in the coverlet. I thought I had lost it that terrible night of fighting. Please give it me.”
Zarah twisted the broken chain round her finger and swung it to and fro. She laughed like the girl she ought to have been and playfully shook her head. She could afford to be charming and frank; in fact, to prepare the first step upon the road of revenge she would have to pretend to tease her old schoolmate, so as to allay her suspicions.
Yes! she could well afford to wait, for had she not the white man and the white girl in her power? Would she not be able to draw him into her net and put her in the dust at her feet through the little golden locket which swung on her finger?
“I will keep it for a little while, Helen R-r-aynor-r, my dear-r fr-r-ien’, jus’ for a souvenir of ze ol’ days. My dwelling is your-r-s. I am sorry you will not be able to get away jus’ yet”—she laughed gently so as to disguise the threat held in the words—“but I am ze mozer of my people an’ cannot leave zem, an’ it is not safe for-r a young an’ beautiful woman to be in ze deser-r-t alone wiz an Ar-r-ab. You will wait a little until I am fr-r-ee? You will bathe, you will join in ze spor-r-ts an’ watch my happy people at zeir wor-r-k in zeir homes? I have many books. You will also r-r-ide wiz me or wiz an escort in ze deser-r-t. Yes?”
She laughed softly at the glint in Helen’s eyes, born of a suddenly conceived plan of escape.
“Someone will show you, perhaps, ze way out an’ ze way in of my deser-r-t home. Zat you cannot lear-r-n by your-r-self because it is sur-r-rounded wiz ze quicksands, in which lie dead ze hundr-r-eds of men an’ beasts.”
“Ah! tell me again, tell me about the quicksands which have, of course, kept the water hidden all this long time. Tell me all about it so that, when I get back to Bagdad, I can write to the papers and prove to the people, who laughed at Grandad, that his theory was correct.”
Helen spoke quickly, her fear momentarily allayed by the thought of being able to vindicate her grandfather. Almost deceived by the other’s friendliness into believing that she was solicitous for her welfare, she smiled across at Zarah.
Fully determined that the white girl should remain a life-long prisoner, either dead or alive, in the mountains, Zarah recounted the romantic history of the strange place, whilst Al-Asad sat lost in dreams and Namlah gently rubbed her foot, which had become afflicted with cramp caused by her squatting position behind the pots and pans.