"If you do not stop I will shoot your horse. I give you one minute."

She swayed a little in the saddle, clutching the grey's neck to steady
herself and for a moment she closed her eyes, but she did not falter
for an instant. She would not stop; nothing on earth should make her
stop now. Only, because she knew the man, she kicked her feet clear of
the stirrups. He had said he would shoot and he would shoot, and if the
grey shied or swerved a hair's breadth she would probably receive the
bullet that was meant for him. Better that! Yes, even better that!

Silver Star tore on headlong and the minute seemed a lifetime. Then
before even she heard the report he bounded in the air and fell with a
crash. Diana was flung far forward and landed on some soft sand. For a
moment she was stunned by the fall, then she staggered dizzily to her
feet and stumbled back to the prostrate horse. He was lashing out
wildly with his heels, making desperate efforts to rise. And as she
reached him the black horse dashed up alongside, stopping suddenly, and
rearing straight up. The Sheik leaped to the ground and ran towards
her. He caught her wrist and flung her out of his way, and she lay
where she had fallen, every nerve in her body quivering. She was beaten
and with the extinguishing of her last hope all her courage failed her.
She gave way to sheer, overwhelming terror, utterly cowed. Every
faculty was suspended, swallowed up in the one dominating force, the
dread of his voice and the dread of the touch of his hands. She heard a
second report and knew that he had put Silver Star out of his misery,
and then, in a few seconds, his voice beside her. She got up
unsteadily, shrinking from him.

"Why are you here, and where is Gaston?"