He even thought it might be probable. Yet the stake he put upon the
board was too vast. The game appalled him, whom nothing yet had
appalled, and it scarce needed a muttered caution from Biskaine to
determine him to hold his hand.
He looked at Sakr-el-Bahr again, his glance now sullen. "I will consider
thy words," he announced in a voice that was unsteady. "I would not be
unjust, nor steer my course by appearances alone. Allah forbid!"
CHAPTER XVIII
SHEIK MAT
Under the inquisitive gaping stare of all about them stood Rosamund and
Sakr-el-Bahr regarding each other in silence for a little spell after the
Basha's departure. The very galley-slaves, stirred from their habitual
lethargy by happenings so curious and unusual, craned their sinewy necks
to peer at them with a flicker of interest in their dull, weary eyes.
Sakr-el-Bahr's feelings as he considered Rosamunds's white face in the
fading light were most oddly conflicting. Dismay at what had befallen
and some anxious dread of what must follow were leavened by a certain
measure of relief.
He realized that in no case could her concealment have continued long.
Eleven mortal hours had she spent in the cramped and almost suffocating
space of that pannier, in which he had intended to do no more than carry
her aboard. The uneasiness which had been occasioned him by the
impossibility to deliver her from that close confinement when Asad had
announced his resolve to accompany them upon that voyage, had steadily
been increasing as hour succeeded hour, and still he found no way to
release her from a situation in which sooner or later, when the limits of
her endurance were reached, her presence must be betrayed.
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