So she _had_ been deluded after all, and her worst anticipations were about to be realised at last! Zohrab grasped her left hand with his right, and planting his left cheek on the other hand, with an elbow on his knee, began to take courage, and, surveying her steadily, to speak more distinctly and with an admiring smile; for the silence of the night was around them, and no sound came on the wind that moaned past the grove or the great cypresses close by; so from the silence, perhaps, he gathered confidence, if, indeed, he really required it. "Allah has been good to us," said he, "exceedingly good, in creating such beautiful beings as women to please us. You are more beautiful than any I have seen--too much so to be left to gladden a Kaffir's heart; so you shall remain with me, and be the light of my eyes." "Wretch!--fool that I have been! Rose, Rose!" gasped Mabel, scarcely knowing what she said. "I love you," he resumed softly, while his hot clasp tightened on her hand, and his lips approached her ear; "you hear--and understand me?" "You love me!" exclaimed Mabel rashly, with proud scorn in her tone, despite the deadly fear that gathered in her heart, and while her eyes flashed with an expression to which the Oriental was quite unaccustomed in a captive woman. "Yes, I love you--I, Zohrab," was the somewhat egotistical response. "You know not what love is; but, even if you did, you shall not dare to talk of it to me. That you may have a fancy, I can quite well understand; but a fancy, or a passion, and love are very different things. What do you, or what can you, know of me?" "That you are beautiful: what more is required?" "Enough of this--I am weary. Take me instantly to my sister, or back to my friends who are with Saleh Mohammed; for if I were to denounce you to Ackbar Khan, how much think you your head would be worth?" "Much less than yours, certainly." "And at what does he--this _other_ barbarian--value me?" "At the price of six Toorkoman horses, perhaps," was the half-angry response; "while to me you are priceless, beyond life itself. Denounce me to Ackbar Khan--would you?" "Yes." His teeth glistened under his jet moustache as he replied-- "Those stones and trees alone hear us; so now let me tell you, Kaffir girl, that you weary me; by the five blessed Keys of Knowledge, you do!" and, as he spoke, he started to his feet, and by an angry twist of his embroidered girdle threw his jewelled sabre behind him. "Oh, this is becoming frightful!" moaned Mabel, clasping her hands and looking wildly round her; "what will become of me now? Papa, Rose, are we never to meet again?" Oh, if big, burly Bob Waller, with his six feet and odd inches of stature, were only there! Could he but know of her misery of mind--her dire extremity! but would he ever know? God alone could tell!