how violently
such beauty as the girl described must have appealed to the dark man of
the East. "The same colouring that I have," Victoria Ray had said. If
he, an Englishman, accustomed to the fair loveliness of his
countrywomen, were a little dazzled by the radiance of this girl, what
compelling influence must not the more beautiful sister have exercised
upon the Arab?
"He made love to Saidee in a fierce sort of way that carried her off her
feet," went on Victoria. "She used to tell me things he said, and Mrs.
Ray did all she could to throw them together, because he was rich, and
lived a long way off--so she wouldn't have to do anything for Say if
they were married, or even see her again. He was only on leave in Paris.
He was a Spahi, stationed in Algiers, and he owned a house there."
"Ah, in Algiers!" Stephen began to see light--rather a lurid light.
"Yes. His name was Cassim ben Halim el Cheikh el Arab. Before he had
known Saidee two weeks, he proposed. She took a little while to think it
over, and I begged her to say 'no'--but one day when Mrs. Ray had been
crosser and more horrid than usual, she said 'yes'. Cassim ben Halim was
Mohammedan, of course, but he and Saidee were married according to
French law. They didn't go to church, because he couldn't do that
without showing disrespect to his own religion, but he promised he'd not
try to change hers. Altogether it seemed to Saidee that there was no
reason why they shouldn't be as happy as a Catholic girl marrying a
Protestant--or _vice versa_; and she hadn't any very strong convictions.
She was a Christian, but she wasn't fond of going to church."
"And her promise that she'd take you away with her?" Stephen reminded
the girl.
"She would have kept it, if Mrs. Ray had consented--though I'm sure
Cassim didn't want me, and only agreed to do what Saidee asked because
he was so deep in love, and feared to lose my sister if he refused her
anything. But Mrs. Ray was afraid to let me go, on account of the
condition in father's will that she should keep me near her while I was
being educated. There was an old friend of father's who'd threatened to
try and upset the will, for Saidee's sake and mine, so I suppose she
thought he might succeed if she disobeyed father's instructions. It
ended in Saidee and her husband going to Algiers without me, and Saidee
cried--but she couldn't help being happy, because she was in love, and
very excited about the strange new life, whi
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