O man of strong arm
and of false heart! Go with him to a far country, be lost in the throng
of cold eyes and false hearts--lose him there! Never! He was mad--mad
with fear; but he should not escape her! She would keep him here a slave
and a master; here where he was alone with her; where he must live for
her--or die. She had a right to his love which was of her making, to the
love that was in him now, while he spoke those words without sense. She
must put between him and other white men a barrier of hate. He must not
only stay, but he must also keep his promise to Abdulla, the fulfilment
of which would make her safe.
"Aissa, let us go! With you by my side I would attack them with my naked
hands. Or no! Tomorrow we shall be outside, on board Abdulla's ship.
You shall come with me and then I could . . . If the ship went ashore by
some chance, then we could steal a canoe and escape in the confusion.
. . . You are not afraid of the sea . . . of the sea that would give me
freedom . . ."
He was approaching her gradually with extended arms, while he pleaded
ardently in incoherent words that ran over and tripped each other in the
extreme eagerness of his speech.
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