eaned towards him again, her hands involuntarily
clasping.

"Monsieur, I seem to have done you a great wrong," she said
tremblingly, "but it is not so great as you suppose. Will you listen
to me? I--"

"Useless, useless." He waved the handkerchief negligently at her. "I
have had words enough. You are not the daughter of Tewfick
Pasha--you are his step-daughter--your French family desires to
capture you--I know the rigmarole by heart, you observe. And of
course when a French family desires to obtain possession of a
charming step-daughter, on the eve of her marriage, that family
always employs a handsome young man to break into the bride's
chamber--and point a gun at the husband--"

His mustache lifted in a grimacing sneer.

"But it _is_ true, and I _am_ French," she interposed swiftly.

"Excellent--I do not object in the least." He shot his handkerchief
up his cuff, and turned to her with eyes that lightly mocked
the agonized appeal of the young face. "French blood is
delightful--quicksilver and champagne. You will enliven me, I
promise you."

"But the marriage--it is not legal, monsieur," she said desperately,
summoning all her courage. "Tewfick Pasha has no right to give me to
you--"

Indulgently he smiled down at her, then his narrowed eyes traveled
slowly about the room.

"But this is a strange time--and place!--to talk of legalities. Do
not distress yourself--your step-father is your guardian and your
marriage will be as binding as the oaths of the prophet. Have no
qualms.... And now, if your French blood will smile a little--"

He started to seat himself beside her, but in that instant she was
on her feet. With all the courage in her beating heart she whipped
out that revolver and pointed it at him.

"If you call--I shoot," she said breathlessly.

The round mouth of the gun shook ever so slightly in the excited
hand gripping it, but in the blazing look she turned on him was the
unshaken, imperious passion of a woman swept absolutely beyond all
fear.

Meeting that look Hamdi Bey stood extremely still and made no sound.

"There are plenty of shots--for you, at the first noise, and for
the servants, if they come," she went on in that fierce undertone,
and then, passionately, "What did you do to him? Take me to him--at
once!"

Irresolutely the man stood and looked up at her under his
half-lowered lids. He was near enough for a spring--and yet if that
excited finger should press.... The girl was cap