It seems that Lord Glencaryll had taken her to Algiers and had

wished to make a trip into the desert. He had been drinking heavily,

and she did not dare to upset his plans by refusing to go with him or

even by telling him how soon her child was going to be born. So she

went with him, and one night something happened--what she would not

say, but my father says he has never seen such a look of terror on any

woman's face as she hurried over that part of her story. Whatever it

was she waited until the camp was asleep and then slipped out into the

desert, mad with fear, with no thought beyond a blind instinct of

flight that drove her panic-stricken to face any danger rather than

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remain and undergo the misery she was flying from. She remembered

hurrying onward, terrified by every sound and every shadow, frightened

even by the blazing stars that seemed to be watching her and pointing

out the way she had taken, until her mind was numb from utter weariness

and she remembered nothing more until she awoke in the headman's tent.

She had been afraid to say who she was lest she should be sent back to

her husband. And with the birth of the child she became more than ever

determined to preserve her secret. The boy should be spared the

suffering she had herself endured, he should not be allowed to fall

into the hands of his father to be at his mercy when the periodical

drinking fits made him a very fiend of cruelty. She made my father and

the Sheik swear that not until the boy grew to manhood should Lord

Glencaryll be told of his existence. She wrote a letter for her husband

which she gave into my father's keeping, together with her wedding

ring, which had an inscription inside of it, and a miniature of

Glencaryll which she had worn always hidden away from sight. She was

very contrite with the Sheik, begging his forgiveness for the sorrow

she had caused him and for keeping from his knowledge the fact that she

was not free. She loved her husband loyally to the end, but the last

few days that she lived the Sheik's devotion seemed to wake an

answering tenderness in her heart. She was happiest when he was with

her, and she died in his arms with his kisses on her lips. She left her

boy in his keeping, and Ahmed Ben Hassan adopted him formally and made

him his heir, giving him his own name--the hereditary name that the

Sheik of the tribe has borne for generations. His word was law amongst

his people, and there was no thought of any opposition to his wishes;

further, the child was considered lucky, and his choice of successor

was received with unanimous delight. All the passionate love that the

Sheik had for the mother was transferred to the son. He idolised him,

and the boy grew up believing that Ahmed Ben Hassan was his own father.




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