back to the beginning--venturing again, winning again--buying three
camels--leasing them--buying three more--starting an express from the
Soudan to Biskra one day short of all others;--carrying only dates and
gold-dust--insuring his gold-dust, something he learned from the French
in Biskra;--buying thirty camels at a plunge--at once the master
camel-driver of the Sahara--and here he was, pacing up and down before
a laced tent which held behind it--_a woman_.

The night of the desert settled down, and still he paced. The stars
came up--the stars by which he laid his course; and, finally, pacing,
he came for the hundredth time to the tent's front and stopped.

"Mistress?" he whispered. There was no answer, "Mistress?" he called,
and then, after an interval, the flies of the tent parted--a white
hand, and a whiter wrist, appeared, and a red oleander fell on the
sands of the desert.

Abdullah was on his knees. He pressed the flower to his lips, to his
heart. Kneeling he watched the flaps of the tent. They fluttered; the
laces raced through the eyelets; the flaps parted, and a girl,
unveiled, stepped out into the firelight. They stood, silent, gazing
one at the other.

"You have been long in coming," she said, at length.

There is no love-making in the desert. Thanks to its fervent heat, love
there comes ready-made.

"Yes," said Abdullah, "I have tarried, but now that I have come, I stay
forever;" and he took her in his arms.

"When did you love me first?" she whispered, half-released.

"When first I saw you, behind the green lattice," gasped Abdullah.

"Ah, that green lattice," whispered the girl; "how small its openings
were. And still, my heart flew through them when first you passed. How
proudly you walked. Walk for me now--here, in the firelight, where I
may see you--not so slowly with your eyes turned toward me, but
swiftly, smoothly, proudly, your head held high--that's it--that is the
way you passed my lattice, and as you passed my heart cried out, 'There
goes my king.' Did you not hear it?"

"No," said Abdullah; "my own heart cried so loudly I heard naught
else."

"What did it cry? What cries it now?" she said; and she placed her
cheek against his bosom, her ear above his heart. "I hear it," she
whispered, "but it beats so fast I cannot understand."

"Then," said Abdullah, "I must tell thee with my lips."

"Oh, beloved," she whispered, "the camels will see us."

"What matters," he said; "they belong