"Why are we stopping here?" she moaned. "Please take me home. I am so tired—and thirsty—and my mouth hurts me. Where is the yacht? What are we doing here?"
"I thought, she would recover soon," broke in Abdullah. "Now, monsieur, at all costs we must reach the town. The hour grows late. Ride on!"
It was remarkable, to say the least, that one who was willing to face unknown odds in order to effect the girl's rescue should be so desperately anxious now to get away from a rather improbable pursuit. Yet again, the Arab's suggestion offered the only practicable course, and Moti had to bear a double load while they slowly climbed the hill down which they dashed so precipitately before they came upon the disabled vehicle. This time, Dick managed to seat his fair partner more comfortably. He placed himself well back against the cantle, lifted Irene across his knees, and drew her right arm around his neck.
Once more she sighed. Dick feared it was the preliminary to another collapse, until she whispered in delightful confidence:
"I remember now, Mr. Royson. I suppose I fainted. How good you are to me!"
"Now, may Heaven be praised that you are all right again," breathed Dick fervently. "You gave me the biggest sort of fright when you nearly dropped on the road."
"Have we far to go before we reach the hotel?"
"Several miles. It took us about three-quarters of an hour to overtake you, and we came at a rare pace."
"I am sure I must be making your arm ache."
She tried to straighten herself, and Royson missed the warm fragrance of her hair against his cheek.