? ? ? ? He turned his eyes upon her as she rode along at his side. How beautiful she was! His fingers opened and closed--skinny, brown talons itching to feel the soft flesh of the victim in their remorseless clutch.
? ? ? ? "Do you know," he asked leaning toward her, "where this man would take you?"
? ? ? ? Jane Clayton nodded affirmatively.
? ? ? ? "And you are willing to become the plaything of a black sultan?"
? ? ? ? The girl drew herself up to her full height, and turned her head away; but she did not reply. She feared lest her knowledge of the ruse that M. Frecoult was playing upon the Arab might cause her to betray herself through an insufficient display of terror and aversion.
? ? ? ? "You can escape this fate," continued the Arab; "Mohammed Beyd will save you," and he reached out a brown hand and seized the fingers of her right hand in a grasp so sudden and so fierce that this brutal passion was revealed as clearly in the act as though his lips had confessed it in words.
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