“I don’t understand!” she wailed, sobbing hysterically. “What does it all mean? Why are you here, and where is Prince Kāra?”
Roane was puzzled by her speech, as well as distressed by her agitation.
“Prince Kāra!” he repeated. “Confound it, Aneth, you don’t want that rascally nigger, do you?”
“No, no!” she replied; “but he wants me, and I have promised; I must go to him. Why am I here? What have you done?”
By this time the dragoman had tied his horses to a palm and come aboard, just as Hassan drew in the gangplank and Abdallah started the wheezy engine. Tadros stood in the cabin doorway and listened intently to Aneth’s protests.
“See here, miss,” he exclaimed, with assumed sternness, “you are in my charge, for I am Prince Kāra’s dragoman, and you have promised to obey me. Is it not so?”
She turned to look at him.
“Are you obeying Prince Kāra’s orders?” she demanded.
“To be sure! He wished to surprise you. He says he merely intended to test your honesty, being interested in knowing whether an English girl would keep her promises. But he does not desire to make you unhappy. He is a prince, and generous; therefore, he releases you from your compact, and you are free from this time forth to do exactly as you please.”
She was white and trembling now.