Sheik must be friend to guest. Zadd say sheik break hospitality, make all you prisoner. He say Sheik Ferhan no more sheik."
Zadd broke the sheik's hold and sent the old man spinning into the board, knocking the pieces over. Sheik Ferhan crashed through the little table and fell from the platform to the ground, ten feet below, for there was no railing to break his momentum. He struck his head sharply against a corner post of the platform, and lay still on the ground.
The knights and castles and bishops and pawns came running swiftly across the sand to the base of the tower. Faris leapt the ten feet to the ground, and was first to reach his fallen chief. Zadd stood with folded arms, while Fenworth sat in his place amazed at the sudden passage of events.
Sheik Ferhan was dead. His neck had been broken as he fell head foremost from the platform. And now Zadd addressed the Arabs, vehemently at first, then more slowly and with more measured accents. What he said was gathered, bit by bit, from the hotchpotch of English chat came from the willing but ineffectual lips of Faris.
"Your sheik has shamed you," said Zadd. "He made these strangers his guests, and by immemorial custom their persons were inviolate thereafter. He abused the sacred privilege of host and made prisoners of his guests. He proposed to sell them to the lost oases. He broke the law of hospitality, which is the worst crime a Bedouin can commit. Thereby he forfeited his right to the title of sheik. And now he lies dead. Peace be with him."
Silence greeted Zadd's solemn words, broken only by a stifled sob from Adooba. The dark queen of the oasis sincerely mourned her fallen lord. But on Zadd's heart also there lay a shadow, for his face was eloquent of gloom.
He conferred at once with the other leaders of the little tribe, and it was decided to send the Americans immediately to their yacht, in the half-day that remained before sunset. Zadd rode beside Constance, in silence, for how could these two converse, since neither knew the other's tongue? He threw over her shoulders a snowy white burnoose to protect her neck from the rain of heat rays, and he set a leisurely pace on his coal-black mare, so as not to weary the American girl.
He seldom looked at her, but Constance stole frequent glances into his finely formed face, with its strong nose and chin and short black beard. Fenworth rode immediately behind her, with an Arab escort, and the bishop rode third, beside Faris. Two by two, the party moved slowly across the desert.
The sun had set and the moon cast deep black shadows upon the yellow sand before they came within sight of old Granby's yacht. Still Zadd maintained the immobility of his countenance, and Constance gazed more and more often into his face. On the deck of the yacht several faces were seen, and a boat, with steam up, lay alongside. It was the relief boat from Muscat.
The Bedouins dismounted at a sign from Zadd, and Fen worth helped Constance to the ground. Faris again endeavored to convey his apologies for Sheik Ferhan's breach of hospitality. Then Zadd crisply ordered his followers to horse, and they rode away, each leading one of the horses that had brought the Americans back to the yacht.
Zadd was left with Constance. Diffidently he extended his hand in farewell greeting. She grasped it, and smiled into his face.
