grievous loss
to society.

Vaguely in the back of his consciousness he had been aware of the
excited plunge of the horse and then of a low, soothing murmur of
speech, and now he turned to find Aimee holding the bridle and
stroking the quivering creature with gentle, fearless hands.

"Is he dead?" she asked quietly of the eunuch.

"Stunned," said Ryder, meaning reassurement and was startled by the
passion of her cry, "Oh, I could kill them all--all!"

"I will--if they try to stop us," he promised grimly, forgetful of
that oath to Aziza.

Hastily he glanced about the stalls. There was no other horse there,
only a pair of mild-eyed donkeys, and though there might conceivably
be other horses behind other doors there was no instant to spare in
search.

This luck was too prodigious to risk.

The door to the street had already been unbolted and now he threw
it back with a quick look into the dark emptiness of the narrow side
street, and then, with a tight hold of the reins, he swung himself
into the saddle and Aimee up into his arms, her head on his
shoulder, her arms clasping him.

It was a huge Bedouin saddle with high-arched back and curved pummel
and the slender pair no more than filled it, making apparently no
weight at all for the spirited beast which tore out of the stalls at
the charging gallop beloved of Eastern horsemen.

For a moment Ryder felt wildly that he might meet the fate of the
rash youth in his patron story. He had never ridden a horse like
this, which, like all high-mettled Arabs, resented the authority of
any but his master, and though a good horseman Ryder had all he
could do to keep his seat and Aimee in his arms.

Around the corner of the lane the horse went racing, and down the
dark, lebbek-lined avenue his flying feet struck back their sparks
of fire. Across an open square he plunged, while irate camels
screamed at him and a harsh voice shouted back loud curses. It
seemed to Ryder that other voices joined in--that there was a
pursuit, an outcry--and then they were out down an open road, wildly
galloping, like a mad highwayman under a pale morning sky.

CHAPTER XXI

MISS JEFFRIES MAKES A CALL

That morning Miss Jeffries ate two eggs. She ate them successively,
with increasing deliberation, and afterwards she lingered
interminably over her toast and marmalade.

Still Ryder made no appearance and since the Arab waiter had
informed her that he had not yet breakfasted she concl