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there are many dangerous outlaws in the desert. Is it true that the Bedouin tribes make slaves of their captives?" Christina asked Mrs. Bigley nervously.
    "It's all quite true, my dear," Mrs. Bigley returned. "But don't worry about it. The outlaw tribes fear Her Majesty's Army, as well they should! They hide in the Arabian Desert, which is quite far from Cairo."
    "Well, that certainly is a relief," Christina sighed.
    The train pulled into Cairo before nightfall. The Bigleys showed Christina and John to a hotel.
    "After you get settled in your quarters, I'll show you the city in its entirety, and we can go to the Opera House," said Mrs. Bigley kindly. "Did you know that it was right here that the famous opera Aida was first produced, to celebrate the opening of the Suez Canal?"
    "I didn't know, but I haven't read too much about this country," Christina replied. She was too tired to be overly interested in anything tonight. She and John thanked the Bigleys for their kindness, and bade them goodnight. John ordered a light supper, but Christina could eat very little, and retired early.
    Her room was at the opposite end of the hall from John's, and a hot bath awaited her. She quickly shed her clothes and slid into the tub. This is heaven, she thought! The heat and crowded railway car had made her feel sticky and dirty. But now she luxuriated in the steaming hot water.
    She lay there for an hour before rinsing off and donning her nightdress. The hot water had relaxed her, and she had no trouble falling off to sleep.
     
     
     
    Sometime in the middle of the night Christina was awakened from a peaceful sleep by a noise in her room. She opened her eyes to see a tall figure standing above her. Christina wondered what on earth John was doing standing beside her bed looking down at her in the dark. But then she realized it couldn't be John. This man was taller than John, and he had something covering his face.
    She started to scream, but before she could make a sound, a huge hand clamped down over her mouth. She tried to push him away, but the man was too strong for her.
    Suddenly he pulled her to him and kissed her painfully, crushing her body against his and running his free hand boldly over her breasts.
    My God, she thought frantically, he's going to rape me! Christina started to struggle violently, but her attacker dropped her back onto the bed and quickly bound a gag over her mouth, tying it tightly behind her head. He pulled a sack over her head and pushed it down over her body, tying it around her knees. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.
    Christina tried kicking her feet to throw him off balance, but he bounced her up in the air, so that the breath was knocked out of her as she landed back on his shoulder. She could tell he was walking, and she heard the bedroom door open and close.
    They seemed to be descending stairs, and then she felt a slight breeze touch her bare feet. They must be outside. Oh God, what is this man going to do with me? Did I come to this Godforsaken country just to die—and how will I die? Will I be raped brutally first? Why did I ever leave England? Poor John, he will blame himself for my death. I have to get away!
    Once more, Christina kicked and squirmed, but the man crushed her to him to still her efforts. He walked faster for a few minutes, then suddenly stopped. He spoke in the native language, then threw her over something. Christina squirmed, but stopped when she felt a painful whack across her buttocks.
    A different voice muttered something, followed by a loud burst of laughter, and Christina felt herself bounced up and down. She knew then that she was lying across a horse, like a sack of potatoes. She almost laughed hysterically when the man pressed a hand into her back. Was he afraid she might fall off and hurt herself before he could hurt her?
    Christina's heart was beating so fast she was afraid it would burst. Where is he taking me? she wondered, and then it dawned on her. Of