She was absolutely terrified and ravenously hungry, also unwashed, therefore altogether unhappy, so with no more ado she flung out her arms, and with a great sob rushed headlong into that which frightened her most, the unlimited, uninhabited desert.

Her shoeless feet made hardly a sound as she sped like a deer from the desolation she imagined, to the certain desolation and death in front of her, but she had hardly cut her little feet over more than twenty yards when Hahmed, the swiftest runner in Egypt, was speeding after her.

“Allah!  Be merciful to me!  For behold, I fail to keep from harm that which Thou hast placed in my keeping,” he murmured, as he ran abreast with the girl for a few yards, then putting his arm around her lifted her off her feet, holding her gently to him, and speaking no word until the paroxysm of sobs had subsided.

“Where to fly you, O! woman, and whyfore are you thus afraid?”

“I was simply terrified.  I—­I—­thought you had left me all alone to die, and I just ran and ran to find someone or something else beside myself in the desert,” answered a voice, muffled by the snowy garments of the man who held her so gently against his heavily beating heart.

“I will take you back to your tent, to the bath and repast which awaits you.  I dared not loosen your raiment without your permission, so having removed the shoes from off your feet, laid you upon your bed, but when you are bathed, I pray you wrap yourself in the soft garments you will find, and clapping your hands make known to your slave that you are ready to eat.”

“Oh, there is a servant to wait on me.  I thought we were quite alone.”

“I am your slave,” simply replied the Arab, as he placed Jill upon her feet in front of her tent, where she stood with her hand on his arm, rooted to the spot by the glory of the sky, whilst the man gazed down upon her, as the dying sun struck the gold of her hair, the blue of her eyes, and the cream of her neck.

“You, who are of those who are versed in music, and of those who can make poetry, describe that glory to me,” imperiously demanded Jill, after a moment of silence, with that suddenness and complete change of mood which falls occasionally upon all women, causing the meek to scratch like cats, and the strong to give in, often to their everlasting undoing.

“Bathe the white body of thy beloved in the blue-green of Egypt’s river, so that the coolness and fairness may give delight to thee!  Drape the satin veil of deepest blue about the red glory of thy love’s hair, and bind a band of gold, set deep is sapphires, above the twin pools of heaven, which are her eyes.  Set turquoise, threaded with finest gold, a-swing in the rose-leaf of her ears, to fall and wind about the snow of her white neck.

“Fasten the blue flower which spies upon thee from the shelter of the golden corn, within the glory of her hair.

“Perfume her hair and her breasts, anoint her hands and her feet, and wrap thy delight in a garment of passion, sparing not the shades therein, for in them shalt thou find thy delight.