Then at another word from him, each took a
naked scimitar and they passed out to place themselves on guard beyond
the curtain. This was not an act in which there was menace or defiance,
nor could Asad so interpret it. The acknowledged presence of
Sakr-el-Balir's wife in that poop-house, rendered the place the
equivalent of his hareem, and a man defends his hareem as he defends his
honour; it is a spot sacred to himself which none may violate, and it is
fitting that he take proper precaution against any impious attempt to do
so.
Rosamund sank down upon the divan, and sat there with bowed head, her
hands folded in her lap. Sakr-el-Bahr stood by in silence for a long
moment contemplating her.
"Eat," he bade her at last. "You will need strength and courage, and
neither is possible to a fasting body."
She shook her head. Despite her long fast, food was repellent. Anxiety
was thrusting her heart up into her throat to choke her.
"I cannot eat," she answered him. "To what end? Strength and courage
cannot avail me now."
"Never believe that," he said. "I have undertaken to deliver you alive
from the perils into which I have brought you, and I shall keep my word."
So resolute was his tone that she looked up at him, and found his bearing
equally resolute and confident.
"Surely," she cried, "all chance of escape is lost to me."
"Never count it lost whilst I am living," he replied.
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