“I thought she was happier,” said the Colonel, huskily; “that she was learning to forget.”
“She has laughed in her sleep,” continued Bessie; “she, who used to be so sad and melancholy. And only this morning she sang an old song as we galloped away from the town, and semed as light hearted as a child.”
The Colonel buried his face in his hands, and a sob rose to this throat.
“Oh, my girl—my dear little girl!” he murmured; “what can I do to save you!”
“Cheer up, Dad,” said Allison, brusquely. “There’s no use taking it so hard. What does it matter whether Janet’s in a harem or anywhere else, so long as she’s happy and content? My opinion is we’re wasting our pity on her. She isn’t the sort to write a letter under compulsion, and you know it as well as I do.”
“Really,” the doctor remarked, “I can’t understand the thing at all. If the girl had ever seen Ahmed Khan she might have fallen in love with him. It’s common report that he’s a fine looking fellow. But until today they were perfect strangers. H—m! Let me see. Wasn’t there some old romance in Janet’s life—some trouble or other?”
“Yes,” said the Colonel. “But that is past and gone—years ago. Yet she brooded upon it, doctor, and it may have driven her mad.”
“I’ve detected no signs of insanity in your daughter,” returned the doctor, rather nettled at the suggestion. “But Allison is right; there’s no use borrowing trouble over the matter until we know more. Perhaps we shall think of some way to communicate with her, or to force the Khan to give her up. We seem absurdly helpless in this tyrant-ridden town, although were we in any other country on earth we might easily assemble an army and rescue your daughter by force of arms, provided diplomacy failed. Kasam seems as impossible as the Khan, for Bessie’s story leads me to suspect he’s the greater scoundrel of the two.”
David had appeared ill at ease during this conversation. Now he rose from his seat and after a half frightened glance around announced in a timid voice:
“I haf a secret!”