Page:A child of the Orient (IA childoforient00vakarich).pdf/37

 *mony, and perching herself on her grandfather's knees, she demanded that he should borrow me for her from my father.

I stood listening, confident that my father would never, never consent to such a terrible thing. When my father consented—reluctantly it is true; yet he did consent—cold shivers ran up and down my back, and my eyelids fell heavily over my eyes. I felt abandoned—abandoned by the one human being for whom I entertained the greatest confidence. Sheer will-power kept me from throwing myself on my father's knees and imploring him to save me from the Turks. Had I not been bragging to the little girl but a few minutes before that I was a Greek, and consequently an extremely brave person, I am sure I should have broken into sobs. As it was, I let myself be led away by the little girl without even kissing my father good-bye; for that would have broken down my self-control. That, I felt, was more than even Greek blood could do. I resigned myself to my dreadful fate, but my legs felt like ripe cucumbers.

Little Djimlah enveloped me in a long caress. "You are my very own baby," she said. "I never had one before, and I shall love you vastly, and give you all I have."

Holding my hand in hers she began to run as fast as she could, pulling me along down the long avenue of trees, leading to the house. At the