ng on her lips. But
before the calm command of his tone and glance she slowly lowered her
head and withdrew beyond the curtain.

CHAPTER XX. THE MESSENGER

For the rest of the day she kept the cabin, chafing with anxiety to know
what was toward and the more racked by it because Sakr-el-Bahr refrained
through all those hours from coming to her. At last towards evening,
unable longer to contain herself, she went forth again, and as it
chanced she did so at an untimely moment.

The sun had set, and the evening prayer was being recited aboard the
galeasse, her crew all prostrate. Perceiving this, she drew back again
instinctively, and remained screened by the curtain until the prayer was
ended. Then putting it aside, but without stepping past the Nubians
who were on guard, she saw that on her left Asad-ed-Din, with Marzak,
Biskaine, and one or two other officers, was again occupying the divan
under the awning. Her eyes sought Sakr-el-Bahr, and presently they
beheld him coming up the gangway with his long, swinging stride, in the
wake of the boat-swain's mates who were doling out the meagre evening
meal to the slaves.

Suddenly he halted by Lionel, who occupied a seat at the head of his oar
immediately next to the gangway. He addressed him harshly in the lingua
franca, which Lionel did not understand, and his words rang clearly and
were heard--as he intended that they should be--by all upon the poop.

"Well, dog? How does galley-slave fare suit thy tender stomach?"

Lionel looked up at him.

"What are you saying?" he asked in English.

Sakr-el-Bahr bent over him, and his face as all could see was evil and
mocking. No doubt he spoke to him in English also, but no more than
a murmur reached the straining ears of Rosamund, though from his
countenance she had no doubt of the purport of his words. And yet she
was far indeed from a correct surmise. The mockery in his countenance
was but a mask.

"Take no heed of my looks," he was saying. "I desire them up yonder
to think that I abuse you. Look as a man would who were being abused.
Cringe or snarl, but listen. Do you remember once when as lads we swam
together from Penarrow to Trefusis Point?"

"What do you mean?" quoth Lionel, and the natural sullenness of his mien
was all that Sakr-el-Bahr could have desired.

"I am wondering whether you could still swim as far. If so you might
find a more appetizing supper awaiting you at the end--aboard Sir John
Killigrew'