Why should she not break away and strike out on her own, if only for a few hours?  But would she not be running into positive physical danger if she did so?  Still it would only be for a few hours—­a swift ride into the desert—­a glimpse of a desert home—­a break anyhow in the deadly, soul-stifling monotony of her daily round.  Yes! but what did she know of the man outside the eulogies of the dragoman, who for all she knew might be leagued with him in nefarious schemes.

And yet, no one cared if she lived or died in soul or body.  Marry she would not for years, and years, though of a truth that prospect would become more and more remote as youth vanished and the waters of her wealth remained at low tide.  But the most irresistible argument in favour of the mad idea was that so far she had not had one single real adventure.

“Allah!” she whispered, clasping her hands involuntarily.  “Where is my path?  Show me the way out!”

And even as she unclasped her hands, she heard a faint tinkle of coins in the well-worn little bag hanging from her wrist.

“Allah has heard!” she murmured to herself, as she fished for a coin.

“Heads I speak—­tails I go back to England,” she continued, placing the silver coin on her thumb nail, flipping it into the air, and catching it on the back of her hand.  “Heads.  Oh!”

And giving herself no time to think, whilst the soul in her eyes first frowned and then laughed in glee, she turned and crossed the few yards covered by the sand which for centuries blown hither and hither had been waiting to make a carpet for her lovely feet to tread when Allah in his graciousness should show her the path, which would lead her to the way out.

CHAPTER V

Jill had an entrancing speaking voice.  She spoke on a low note, and having trained the muscles of the throat to relax or tighten at will, she was able to throw all manner of inflection into the words, and all shades of tone and melody into the chords of the beautiful musical instrument which is so terribly neglected the world over.

So that when she spoke, her words sounded like the chiming of distant bells in the ears of the man, and his heart seemed likely to be engulfed in the golden stream of a voice through which continuously rippled a gentle laughter.

“Monsieur will forgive me for speaking in this abrupt way, but the moments are few in which to make my request.  I hear that in the desert is a beautiful oasis, and many beautiful Arabian horses.  I have never seen an oasis, for you see I know nothing of Egypt, but I once had an Arab mare.  She was wonderful and white.  Perhaps Monsieur has some of her brothers or sisters?  And just for once I should like to see the desert stars at night, and the desert sun at dawn.  Could Monsieur take me to see these things if——­” And then the golden voice stopped short, and the girl involuntarily took one step backward.