Aghast he stood, and the knife fell from his fingers. The countenance revealed was amazingly beautiful, so charming, indeed, that instantly he became entranced by its loveliness, and stood speechless and abashed. She was not more than eighteen, and her features, fair as an Englishwoman's, were regular, with a pair of brilliant dark eyes set well apart under brows blackened by kohl, and a forehead half hidden by strings of golden sequins that tinkled musically each time she moved. Upon her head was set jauntily a little scarlet _chachia_, trimmed heavily with seed-pearls, while her neck was encircled by strings of roughly-cut jacinths and turquoises, and in the folds of her silken haick there clung the subtle perfumes of the harem. Slowly she lifted her fine eyes, still wet with tears, to his, and, with her breast rising and falling quickly, trembled before him, fearing his wrath. "Loosen thy tongue's strings?" he cried at last, grasping her slim white wrist with his rough, hard hand. "Thou art from Afo, the City in the Sky, and thou hast gained knowledge of our intended attack?" "Thy lips, O stranger, speak the truth," she faltered. "Why art thou here, and alone, so far from thine home on the crest of yonder peak?" he inquired, gazing at her in wonderment. "I came hither for the same purpose as thyself," she answered seriously, looking straight into his face--"to crave Allah's blessing." "Art thou a dweller in the house of grief?" he asked. "Tell me why thou didst venture here alone." She hesitated, toying nervously with the jewelled perfume-bottle suspended at her breast; then she answered, "I--I am betrothed to a man I hate. The Merciful Giver of Blessings alone can rescue me from a fate that is worse than death--a marriage without love." "And who is forcing thee into this hateful union? If it is thy father, tell me his name." "Yes, it is my father. His name is Abd el Jelil ben Sef e'Nasr, Sultan of Abea." "The Sultan?" he cried in amazement. "Then thou art Kheira!" he added, for the extraordinary beauty of the only daughter of the Sultan of Abea was proverbial throughout the Great Desert, from Lake Tsad to the Atlas. "Yes," she replied. "And from thy speech and dress I know thou art of the Kanouri, our deadliest enemies." "True," answered the desert pirate. "To-morrow my tribe, to the number of ten thousand, now lying concealed in the valley called Deforou, will swarm upon thine impregnable city and--" "Ten thousand?" she gasped, pale and agitated. "And thou wilt kill my father and reduce our people to slavery. Ah, no!" she added imploringly. "Save us, O stranger! Our fighting men went south one moon ago to collect the taxes at Dchagada, therefore we are unprotected. What can I do--how can I act to save my father?" "Dost thou desire to save him, even though he would force upon thee this odious marriage?" "I do," she cried. "I--I will save the City in the Sky at cost of mine own life."