"May jackals defile my grave," he muttered, "but this is the wrong
woman! Here have I, Abdullah the Spear-thrower, been, befooled by a
black slave in the caravanserai. What have I done? By the beard of the
Prophet, what shall I say if her capture was part of the Hakim
Effendi's plan?"
CHAPTER X
THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM
When Irene was freed from her bonds she sighed deeply, uttered a little
sob as though her soul had fluttered to her lips, and sank into
Royson's arms. In the ever-growing darkness he had not realized earlier
how acute was the torture she was enduring. She must have experienced
some difficulty in breathing, owing to the outrageous manner in which
her mouth and nostrils were covered. Yet, to render her quite helpless,
her wrists were tied with such cruel force that they became swollen and
stiff, and her delicate skin was chafed until it galled beneath the
rope.
While Royson was carrying her on the high-peaked Arab saddle, the
strain grew almost intolerable, but her brave heart did not flinch
under that exquisite pain.
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