A Son of the Sahara Part 51

Three days had pa.s.sed since her rescue from the slave-market; three delightful days for the girl, a.s.sured of her own safety, her father's coming freedom and the welfare of her friends. During the time, Le Breton had been with her almost constantly. From breakfast time until after dinner always at her disposal, ready to fall in with her wishes so long as they did not entail too much exertion on her part.

She was anxious to be on "The Sultan," and off for a long gallop, but this he vetoed firmly.

"It would cause too much of a sensation," he had said. "In this country women don't ride about on horseback. We should have the whole city at our heels."

Pansy had no desire for this to happen, lest the Sultan Casim should learn she had fallen into the hands of a friend, and s.n.a.t.c.h her away from her rescuer, so she did not urge further. But it was on account of her health, and not the idea of a crowd of his own subjects, that made Le Breton refuse this indulgence; for fear she should not be strong enough to stand the shaking.

He was quite willing to take her rowing on the lake, to play croquet with her, or a game of billiards; but most of all willing to sit at her side in the peaceful, scented garden, or in the cool gallery, or the _salon_, watching her; an occupation that Pansy, with an extensive knowledge of men and their ways, knew the ultimate end of. An end she was doing her best to keep at bay.

But, in spite of everything, she had the feeling of being a prisoner.

The iron grilles at either end of the long gallery were never unlocked; nor was the gate into the paddock.

There was never a boat at the foot of the steps leading to the lake except when Le Breton was with her.

She had explored her quarters further. Beyond the _salon_ there was a combined billiard-room and library, and its one exit led into a sort of big alcove dressing-room. Beyond that was her host's bedroom, as to her dismay she had discovered on opening the door. For she had found him there in shirt sleeves and trousers with a dark-faced valet, who, on seeing her, had melted away discreetly.

Pansy would have melted away also, but it was too late. In a perfectly unperturbed manner, Le Breton had crossed to her side.

"So, Pansy, you've come to pay me a visit?" he said teasingly. "That's hardly the sort of thing I'd expected of you."

"I'd no idea----" she began in a confused manner.

"There's no need to make excuses. You'll find all the roads here lead to Mecca. And I'm always pleased to see you," he broke in, in the same teasing strain. "If you'd kept your promise, we should be quite a staid married couple by now. And you'd be free to come and go in my apartments. Think of it, Pansy."

Pansy thought of it, and her face went crimson.

Her blushes made him laugh.

To the sound of his laughter, soft and mocking, she retreated, and she did not explore in that direction again.

She explored by way of her own bedroom instead, only to find that led into his study. And after that she did no more exploring. For it seemed that all roads did lead to Mecca. Whichever way she turned, Raoul Le Breton was there, coming between her and the man she feared and hated--the Sultan Casim Ammeh.

"I feel like a prisoner," she remarked on one occasion.

They were sitting by the lake, under the shade of fragrant trees, with the blue water lapping the marble steps and the sun setting over the desert. A gilded world, where a golden sunset edged the golden sand, one flaming yellow sea above another.

"You're a novelty here," he replied. "A pearl of great price. If I didn't keep you well guarded, there would be a hundred ready to steal you. And I flatter myself that, on the whole, you'd rather be with me."

He paused, watching her with dark, smouldering eyes.

"Am I right, Heart's Ease?" he finished tenderly.

Pansy coloured slightly under the ardour of his gaze.

Had he been as other men were, she would not have hesitated in her reply. She would have said in her own impulsive, truthful way:

"I'd rather be with you than anyone in the whole wide world."

But now his colour and religion were constantly before her. And pride kept any such confession from her lips.

So instead she said:

"No one could have been kinder than you, Raoul. I can never be grateful enough."

His kindness had been before her that night when she dressed for dinner. Pansy had no clothes except the ones in which he had brought her. But, within three days, there was an elaborate wardrobe at her disposal; the frocks fashioned like those she had worn in Grand Canary.

In one of these dresses she now sat at dinner with him; a misty robe of chiffon, but there were no diamonds sparkling like dew upon it. All her jewels had been left behind in the dim, gilded room in the palace of El-Ammeh.

When dinner was over, as they sat together in the _salon_, Le Breton remarked on the fact.

"They've stolen all your pretty jewels, Pansy," he said. "You must let me give you some others."

"You've done quite enough for me already," she replied promptly. "I can manage without jewels until I get back to England."

At her words his eyes narrowed.

"Couldn't you be content to stay here?" he asked in a rather abrupt manner.

"For a few weeks, perhaps, then I should be craving change and variety.

'The Light of the Harem' act isn't one that would satisfy me for long."

Then Pansy was sorry she had spoken. She remembered that he had admitted to having a harem, probably somewhere in this very house. But she had spoken with the idea of letting him see his case was hopeless; of saving him the pain of refusal.

"Considering how ill you've been, the 'Light of the Harem act,' as you call it, would be the best sort of life for you for some time to come."

"How do you know I've been ill?" she asked quickly.

Le Breton saw he had made a slip, but he covered it up smartly.

"Gossip told me," he said coolly.

There was silence for a time, during which he sat with his gaze on her.

"Why don't you smoke?" Pansy asked suddenly, anxious to get something between herself and him.

"When you're about I don't need any soothing syrups," he replied.

He was approaching dangerous ground again. To ward him off Pansy rose and went to the piano. Seating herself there, she wandered from one item to another, with scarcely a pause between.

But the feeling of his eyes never off her made her stop all at once and laugh hysterically.

A crisis had to be faced sooner or later. Things might as well come to a head now as to-morrow or next week.

At that moment Pansy remembered the man who had held her with such fierce strength and pa.s.sion in the moon-lit garden of the villa. And she wondered, not without a touch of alarm, how he would take her refusal.

She got up and went to his side.

"I must give you something else to do than just watching me. It makes me nervous," she said.