ly he
read the yellowed cutting. His eyes were no longer wide. Instead they
narrowed to two slits of cunning. When he had done he looked at the
girl.

"You have read this?" he asked.

"It is French," she replied, "and I do not read French."

Abdul Kamak stood long in silence looking at the girl. She was very
beautiful. He desired her, as had many other men who had seen her. At
last he dropped to one knee beside her.

A wonderful idea had sprung to Abdul Kamak's mind. It was an idea that
might be furthered if the girl were kept in ignorance of the contents
of that newspaper cutting. It would certainly be doomed should she
learn its contents.

"Meriem," he whispered, "never until today have my eyes beheld you, yet
at once they told my heart that it must ever be your servant. You do
not know me, but I ask that you trust me. I can help you. You hate
The Sheik--so do I. Let me take you away from him. Come with me, and
we will go back to the great desert where my father is a sheik mightier
than is yours. Will you come?"

Meriem sat in silence. She hated to wound the only one who had offered
her protection and friendship; but she did not want Abdul Kamak's love.
Deceived by her silence the man seized her and strained her to him; but
Meriem struggled to free herself.

"I do not love you," she cried. "Oh, please do not make me hate you.
You are the only one who has shown kindness toward me, and I want to
like you, but I cannot love you."

Abdul Kamak drew himself to his full height.

"You will learn to love me," he said, "for I shall take you whether you
will or no. You hate The Sheik and so you will not tell him, for if
you do I will tell him of the picture. I hate The Sheik, and--"

"You hate The Sheik?" came a grim voice from behind them.

Both turned to see The Sheik standing a few paces from them. Abdul
still held the picture in his hand. Now he thrust it within his
burnous.

"Yes," he said, "I hate the Sheik," and as he spoke he sprang toward
the older man, felled him with a blow and dashed on across the village
to the line where his horse was picketed, saddled and ready, for Abdul
Kamak had been about to ride forth to hunt when he had seen the
stranger girl alone by the bushes.

Leaping into the saddle Abdul Kamak dashed for the village gates. The
Sheik, momentarily stunned by the blow that had felled him, now
staggered to his feet, shouting lustily to his followers to stop the
escap