ee chests and
moved off rapidly down the road Rasula striding ahead with the flaring
torch.

They were barely out of sight beyond the turn in the hill when
Deppingham moved as though impulse was driving him into immediate attack
upon the guards who were left behind with the unhappy prisoners. Chase
laid a restraining hand upon his arm.

"Wait! Plenty of time. Wait an hour. Don't spoil everything. We'll save
them sure," he breathed in the other's ear. Deppingham's groan was
almost loud enough to have been heard above the rustling leaves and the
collective maledictions of the disgusted islanders.

The minutes slipped by with excruciating slowness The wakeful eyes of
the three watchers missed nothing that took place in the little
grass-grown niche below them They could have sprung almost into the
centre of the group from the position they occupied. Utterly unconscious
of the surveillance, the islanders gradually sunk into a morose, stupid
silence. If the watchers hoped that they might go to sleep they were to
be disappointed Two of the men sat with their backs to the rocks, their
rifles across their knees. The others sprawled lazily upon the soft
grass. Two torches, stuck in the earth, threw a weird light over the
scene.

Bobby Browne was now lying with his shoulder against a fallen
tree-trunk, staring with unswerving gaze at the woman across the way.
She was looking off into the night, steadfastly refusing to glance in
his direction. For fully half an hour this almost speaking tableau
presented itself to the spectators above.

Then suddenly Lady Agnes arose to her feet and lifted her hands high
toward the black dome of heaven, Salammbo-like, and prayed aloud to her
God, the sneering islanders looking on in silent derision.

CHAPTER XXX

THE PERSIAN ANGEL

The man called Abou suddenly leaped to his feet, and, with the cry of an
eager animal, sprang to her side. His arms closed about her slender
figure with the unmistakable lust of the victor. A piteous,
heart-rending shriek left her lips as he raised her clear of the ground
and started toward the dense shadows across the road. Her
terror-stricken face was turned to the light; her cries for mercy were
directed to the brute's companions.

They did not respond, but another did. A hoarse, inarticulate cry of
rage burst from Deppingham's lips. His figure shot out through the air
and down the short slope with the rush of an infuriated beast. Even as
the asto