But since then Dirrag had led them through the valley to the south and east, where the country was more thickly settled, and avoided riding very far from the walls.
However, on the morning following the arrival of the Grand Mufti Salaman at Mekran, Bessie pleaded with Dirrag to again take them up the westward2 slope, that they might once more look upon the camp of the Prince. Dirrag hesitated at first, but finally consented and turned the horses’ heads in that direction. The steeds of Mehmet, he reflected, were the fleetest in the khan’s dominions3, and his own trusted cimeter would be equal to any emergency. Moreover, when a woman pleaded Dirrag’s heart was water, and Bessie was his favorite.
It was a beautiful morning, and the sun had just risen to cast a golden glow over the distant plain, where the white dots appeared to their eyes in increased numbers.
“Kasam’s army is growing,” said Bessie. “Surely there are many more tents than there were before.”
“The air may be filled with vultures, yet they dare not attack a living lion,” remarked Dirrag, quietly.
“But why shouldn’t Kasam himself be the lion?” she retorted. “Is he so much inferior to the mysterious Ahmed Khan?”
“The future will decide that,” said Dirrag. “Those who know my master have no fear of Kasam of Raab.”
After remaining a short time to watch the picturesque4 scene spread out before them they turned their horses to descend5 the hill. All three were busy with their own reflections, and had nearly reached the foot of the incline, with the walls of Mekran less than two miles away, when three mounted men who had been concealed6 in a thicket7 dashed out and, without warning, fell savagely8 upon the band. Two with drawn9 swords engaged Dirrag in fierce combat, while the third, coming beside Janet, dragged the girl from her horse, swept her across to his own saddle, and then galloped10 away with his victim clasped tight in his arms.
Bessie, reining11 in her horse, sat as if turned to stone, for she recognized in the abductor of Janet their old friend Prince Kasam.
With dull eyes and set face she followed the flight of his horse as he bounded up the hill with his burden, nor could the growls13 of Dirrag, who was engaged in beating down the swords of his assailants with mighty14 strokes, distract her from the more astounding15 sight.
Janet, unable to elude16 the fierce embrace of the man who held her, did not waste her strength in useless struggles. But after the first surprise of her capture had passed away she managed to find her voice, crying out:
“Release me, Prince Kasam!”
“Never!” he answered,
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