'Oh my lord, be merciful,' cried the captive, when he saw that Khaled himself was there. 'Be merciful and let me drink, for your heart is easily moved to pity, and by an act of charity you shall hereafter sit in the shade of the tree Sedrat and drink for ever of the wine of paradise.' 'I do not desire wine,' said Khaled. 'But you shall certainly not thirst. Give him the jar,' he said to Almasta. But she shook her head. 'He is bad and ugly,' she said. 'If he does not drink, he will die.' Then Khaled put out his hand to take the jar of water, but Almasta threw it violently to the ground, and it broke to pieces. Thereupon the captive began again to rail and curse at Almasta and to implore Khaled with many blessings. 'You shall drink, for I will bring water myself,' said Khaled. He went back to his tent and took his own jar to the well, and filled it carefully. When he turned he saw that Almasta was running from his tent towards the cage, with a drawn sword in her hand. He then ran also, and being very swift of foot, he overtook her just as she thrust at the Sultan through the bars. But the sword caught in the folds of the soft carpet, and Khaled took it from her hand, and thrust her down so that she fell upon her knees. Then he gave the prisoner the jar with the water that remained in it, for some had been spilt as he ran. 'Who has given you the right to kill my captives?' he asked of Almasta. 'Kill me, then!' she cried. 'Indeed, if you were not so valuable, I would cut off your head,' Khaled answered. 'Why do you wish me to kill you?' 'I hate him,' she said, pointing to the captive who was drinking like a thirsty camel. 'That is no reason why I should kill you. Go back to the tents.' But Almasta laid her hand on the sword he held and tried to bring it to her own throat. 'This is a strange woman,' said Khaled. 'Why do you wish to die? You shall go to Riad and be the Sultan's wife.' 'No, no!' she cried. 'Kill me! Not him, not him!' 'Of whom do you speak?' 'Him!' she answered, again pointing to the prisoner. 'Is he not the Sultan?' Khaled laughed aloud, for he saw that she had supposed she was to be taken to Riad to be made the wife of the Sultan of Shammar. Indeed, the other women had told her so, to anger her. 'Not this man,' he said, endeavouring to make her understand. 'There is another Sultan at Riad. The Sultan of Shammar is one, the Sultan of Nejed another.' 'You?' she asked, suddenly springing up. 'With you?' The moon was bright and Khaled saw that her eyes gleamed like stars and her face grew warm, and when she took his hands her own were cold. 'No, not I,' he answered. 'I am not the Sultan.' But her face became grey in the moonlight, and she covered her head with her veil and went slowly back to her tent.