The version Irene heard was that Royson's camel had fallen lame, and it
was deemed safer he should hide until help came, than mount behind
Abdur Kad'r and risk the slower journey. Fenshawe reasoned that Royson
might be captured, not killed. His long experience of Arab life told
him that the tribesmen would be chary of murdering a European, for fear
of the vengeance to be exacted later. Nevertheless, this comforting
theory was more than balanced by the disquieting facts revealed by the
sheikh, who, as he rode wildly to the south, heard a sharp outburst of
firing in the valley behind him.
Yet it was well that Irene had not been told the whole truth, else that
anxious little heart of hers might have stormed itself into a fever of
despair. As it was, her pent emotions found relief in tears of joy when
the messengers brought the news of Royson's approach with the rescue
party, and her eyelids were still suspiciously red, her lips somewhat
tremulous, when, standing by her grandfather's side, she welcomed his
return.
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