Glad to escape with their lives the officers hurried out to do the royal bidding.
There were no cruel lines about the Sultan's mouth as he waited their return, but deep gashes of pain instead.
A silent cavalcade entered the tent some minutes later: as silent as the Sultan who stood awaiting them; as silent as the girl with the red stain on her breast and the red blood on her lips.
A look from the Sultan dismissed the men.
When they had gone, he crossed to Pansy's side, and stood gazing down at her.
She lay limp and white, a broken lily before him,
His enemy's daughter! This still, white, lovely girl. This pearl among women, whom he had tried to hate. And now——!
Pain twisted his face.
He thought of Pansy as he had last seen her, that night on her yacht.
She had wanted to bring about an understanding between them. She had tried to see things from his point of view. She was prepared to make allowances, to find excuses for him. And he had treated her with harshness; wilfully set her at a disadvantage; purposely had misunderstood her; deliberately had said all he could to wound her.