Take my horse--he is the swiftest of my troop--and go you on
your errand. You are safe from me."
She looked at him in stupor; the sense of his words was not tangible
to her; she had had no hope, no thought, that they would ever deal thus
with her; all she had ever dreamed of was so to touch their hearts and
their generosity that they would spare one from among their troop to do
the errand of mercy she had begged of them.
"You play with me!" she murmured, while her lips grew whiter and her
great eyes larger in the intensity of her emotion. "Ah! for pity's sake,
make haste and kill me, so that this only may reach him!"
The chief, standing by her, lifted her up in his sinewy arms, up on to
the saddle of his charger. His voice was very solemn, his glance was
very gentle; all the nobility of the highest Arab nature was aroused
in him at the heroism of a child, a girl, an infidel--one, in his sight
abandoned and shameful among her sex.
"Go in peace," he said simply; "it is not with such as thee that we
war."
Then, and then only, as she felt the fresh reins placed in her hand, and
saw the ruthless horde around her fall back and leave her free, did she
understand his meaning; did she comprehend that he gave her back both
liberty and life, and, with the surrender of the horse he loved, the
noblest and most precious gift that the Arab ever bestows or ever
receives. The unutterable joy seemed to blind her, and gleam upon her
face like the blazing light of noon, as she turned her burning eyes full
on him.
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