med, and fell at his feet as if she had been cut
down by a scythe. The unexpected suddenness of her movement startled
Lingard, who stepped back.

"What's this?" he exclaimed in a wondering whisper--then added in a tone
of sharp command: "Stand up!"

She rose at once and stood looking at him, timorous and fearless; yet
with a fire of recklessness burning in her eyes that made clear her
resolve to pursue her purpose even to the death. Lingard went on in a
severe voice--

"Go out of my path. You are Omar's daughter, and you ought to know that
when men meet in daylight women must be silent and abide their fate."

"Women!" she retorted, with subdued vehemence. "Yes, I am a woman!
Your eyes see that, O Rajah Laut, but can you see my life? I also have
heard--O man of many fights--I also have heard the voice of fire-arms;
I also have felt the rain of young twigs and of leaves cut up by bullets
fall down about my head; I also know how to look in silence at angry
faces and at strong hands raised high grasping sharp steel. I also saw
men fall dead around me without a cry of fear and of mourning; and I
have watched the sleep of weary fugitives, and looked at night shadows
full of menace and death with eyes that knew nothing but watchfulness.
And," she went on, with a mournful drop in her voice, "I have faced the
heartless sea, held on my lap the heads of those who died raving from
thirst, and from their cold hands took the paddle and worked so that
those with me did not know that one man more was dead. I did all this.
What more have you done? That was my life. What has been yours?"

The matter and the manner of her speech held Lingard motionless,
attentive and approving against his will. She ceased speaking, and from
her staring black eyes with a narrow border of white above and below, a
double ray of her very soul streamed out in a fierce desire to light
up the most obscure designs of his heart. After a long silence, which
served to emphasize the meaning of her words, she added in the whisper
of bitter regret--

"And I have knelt at your feet! And I am afraid!"

"You," said Lingard deliberately, and returning her look with an
interested gaze, "you are a woman whose heart, I believe, is great
enough to fill a man's breast: but still you are a woman, and to you, I,
Rajah Laut, have nothing to say."

She listened bending her head in a movement of forced attention; and his
voice sounded to her unexpected, far off, with the di