THE SLAVE GIRL OF AGRA
"I do not choose to die yet, senseless man—the blood is still hot in my Tartar veins. I will know how to protect myself and to see thee again. Speed thee, soldier, for thy time is short."
"I do not choose to move, Jelekha, unless I bear thee away from this place of horrors. I have trusted my life to thee before now, girl, trust me to-night."
"I see, young man, thy days are not passed in camp in vain. Thou knowest the ways to win a girl. But a Tartar does not choose to be won thus. Go thy way, young soldier, I will meet thee again when I choose."
"Knowest thou, proud maid, those blood-hounds thou speakest of are seeking thy life rather than mine? I have heard something in the palace of a young Tartar slave who has run away, and her dagger did foul work before she fled. Thinkest thou there is forgiveness in Musroor and his dark comrades? And shall I leave thee to be pursued and hunted in these woods, to be chained and dragged to the palace, to be tortured and branded before thou art stabbed to death?"
A shudder went through the iron frame of Jelekha at these words, but she laughed and replied, "Ah, my young lover, I see thou hast been into the palace to some purpose and learnt something of its mysteries. But seest thou not thy life is not safe if thou takest me with thee? Go, go, soldier; I will meet thee again."
Noren's answer was brief. "Stay here then if thou wishest, Jelekha. I can stand by thee and fall."
Something in Noren's determined voice struck Jelekha. She softened and said, "Brave, foolish
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