Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 94: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

84 So they continued until she saw at close quarters the circle of tents which Rabbit had told her was a mehalla of soldiers. Still holding Eileen on her face across the pom- mel of the saddle as if she were a bundle of fagots, the man cantered through a group of soldiery, wild-looking people in ragged red tunics and tattered, baggy trousers of blue, and across the intervening space to the large tent in the center. Here he made her dismount by the sim- ple process of pushing her off. Upon her feet her first action was a swift glance in search of her people. She caught a glimpse of her father and Morden upon their own mounts, which were being led by Moors. A grulf voice bade her to do something, and a hand gripping her by the arm half dragged her into the tent, where in the shadow she saw, squatting on a great rug beneath an immaculately wound rozzah to his high fez cap of the makhzen (government), the black beard and bright eyes of Ben Ghali. He eyed her quietly and mumbled some- thing. Her captor, the young man with a handsome black beard, clutched her shoul- ders. Eileen wrenched her arm away, ex- claiming angrily: ‘* Don’t you dare to touch me!”’ The man grinned amiably and pointed to the rug for her to sit down. She threw up her chin and shook her head, whereat he spoke to the old man, who responded gut- turally. Again he looked at her insolently, grinned; then himself sank cross-legged, and taking no notice of her began a long con- versation with the old man. Eileen glanced behind her trying to see through the tent door. Swiftly she sprang and lifted the flap. But outside stood two soldiers who eyed her hungrily. She stood irresolutely, listening. The one-eyed inter- preter was not to be seen. The two men continued their discussion unperturbed. At length the young man rose and indi- cated that she precede him. She obeyed, glad to get out, and glanced around hur- riedly. There was a group of horsemen near the outer tents, but she could not dis- tinguish her father or Morden. Although unable to comprehend how a brigand could be a high officer in the army, Eileen began to hope that she would soon rejoin her THE ARGOSY. father and Morden, to be held prisoners once more until the ransom was paid. Per- haps the amount would be increased, but that was all. But when her captor gestured for her to™ mount the horse, she became alarmed again. “ No! No!” she cried. “I won’t!” He made as if to pick her up. She obeyed hurriedly, with a wild idea of galloping off as soon as she was in the saddle. But she was not given the opportunity, for the fel- low scrambled with great agility in spite of his robes up behind her, and grabbing the rains started the animal off at a sudden gallop. As they passed through the lines a frantic desire to warn her father urged her to scream, hoping that he would hear. But immediately a firm, large hand shot up to her mouth and pulled her back upon the man’s shoulders. As soon as she ceased to struggle he let her go. Eileen was both mighty angry as well as frightened, but she remained quiet. The sun was setting as they breasted a rise, and the earth and mountains were tinted in strange hues of blue and gold from the pageant which streamed across the arc of the skies. Once, just as the twilight was fading to the depth of night, in a twist of the road, she contrived to win a glance down the trail. She saw distinctly a group of horsemen following, but whether Morden and her father were with them she could not deter- mine. So that ride continued hour after hour, galloping, cantering, walking; canter- ing, walking, galloping, with the warm breath of her captor fanning the back of her neck. Terrors that he might kiss her, might embrace her, hovered as grotesquely as the night shadows in those hills. Now and again the yelping of dogs marked some vil- lage that they were passing which she could not see. Thirst and hunger afflicted her, but she could not ask, nor did she so desire to do because of those vague fears. And over and over to the clop-clop of the horses’ hoofs ran alternating queries as to the fate of her father, and lover, and her own. At last, as they were cantering down a slight incline, a dim vision of misty ex- GOMIIGIOO eS (C@