Malbihn took a single glance and turned away. “She must be a thousand years old, Kovudoo,” he said, as he left the hut.
“She is young,” cried the savage. “It is dark in here. You cannot see. Wait, I will have her brought out into the sunlight,” and he commanded the two warriors who watched the girl to cut the bonds from her ankles and lead her forth for inspection.
Malbihn and Jenssen evinced no eagerness, though both were fairly bursting with it—not to see the girl but to obtain possession of her. They cared not if she had the face of a marmoset, or the figure of potbellied Kovudoo himself. All that they wished to know was that she was the girl who had been stolen from The Sheik several years before. They thought that they would recognize her for such if she was indeed the same, but even so the testimony of the runner Kovudoo had sent to The Sheik was such as to assure them that the girl was the one they had once before attempted to abduct.
As Meriem was brought forth from the darkness of the hut’s interior the two men turned with every appearance of disinterestedness to glance at her. It was with difficulty that Malbihn suppressed an ejaculation of astonishment. The girl’s beauty fairly took his breath from him; but instantly he recovered his poise and turned to Kovudoo.
“Well?” he said to the old chief.
“Is she not both young and good looking?” asked Kovudoo.
“She is not old,” replied Malbihn; “but even so she will be a burden. We did not come from the north after wives—there are more than enough there for us.”
Meriem stood looking straight at the white men. She expected nothing from them—they were to her as much enemies as the black men. She hated and feared them all. Malbihn spoke to her in Arabic.
“We are friends,” he said. “Would you like to have us take you away from here?”
Slowly and dimly as though from a great distance recollection of the once familiar tongue returned to her.
“I should like to go free,” she said, “and go back to Korak.”
“You would like to go with us?” persisted Malbihn.
“No,” said Meriem.
Malbihn turned to Kovudoo. “She does not wish to go with us,” he said.
“You are men,” returned the black. “Can you not take her by force?”
“It would only add to our troubles,” replied the Swede. “No, Kovudoo, we do not wish her; though, if you wish to be rid of her, we will take her away because of our friendship for you.”
Now Kovudoo knew that he had made a sale. They wanted her. So he commenced to bargain, and in the end the person of Meriem passed from the possession of the black chieftain into that of the two Swedes in consideration of six yards of Amerikan, three empty brass cartridge shells and a shiny, new jack knife from New Jersey. And all but Meriem were more than pleased with the bargain.
Kovudoo stipulated but a single condition and that was that the Europeans were to leave his village and take the girl with them as early the next morning as they could get started. After the sale was consummated he did not hesitate to explain his reasons for this demand. He told them of the strenuous attempt of the girl’s savage mate to rescue her, and suggested that the sooner they got her out of the country the more likely they were to retain possession of her.
Meriem was again bound and placed under guard, but this time in the tent of the Swedes. Malbihn talked to her, trying to persuade her to accompany them willingly. He told her that they would return her to her own village; but when he discovered that she would rather die than go back to the old sheik, he assured her that they would not take her there, nor, as a matter of fact, had they had an intention of so doing. As he talked with the girl the Swede feasted his eyes upon the beautiful lines of her face and figure. She had grown tall and straight and slender toward maturity since he had seen her in The Sheik’s village on that long gone day. For years she had represented to him a certain fabulous reward. In his thoughts she had been but the personification of the pleasures and luxuries that many francs would purchase. Now as she stood before him pulsing with life and loveliness she suggested other seductive and alluring possibilities. He came closer to her and laid his hand upon her. The girl shrank from him. He seized her and she struck him heavily in the mouth as he sought to kiss her. Then Jenssen entered the tent.
“Malbihn!” he almost shouted. “You fool!”
Sven Malbihn released his hold upon the girl and turned toward his companion. His face was red with mortification.
“What the devil are you trying to do?” growled Jenssen. “Would you throw away every chance for the reward? If we maltreat her we not only couldn’t collect a sou, but they’d send us to prison for our pains. I thought you had more sense, Malbihn.”
“I’m not a wooden man,” growled Malbihn.
“You’d better be,” rejoined Jenssen, “at least until we have delivered her over in safety and collected what will be coming to us.”
“Oh, hell,” cried Malbihn. “What’s the use? They’ll be glad enough to have her back, and by the time we get there with her she’ll be only too glad to keep her mouth shut. Why not?”
“Because I say not,” growled Jenssen. “I’ve always let you boss things, Sven; but here’s a case where what I say has got to go—because I’m right and you’re wrong, and we both know it.”
“You’re getting damned virtuous
