ace!"

At the sound of his call many women ran to their doors, some half
dressed, some fully attired, like Jezebels of the great desert.

"It is Ben-Abid!" went up the cry of many voices. "It is Ben-Abid, who
laughs to scorn the power of the hedgehog's foot. It is the son of the
camel with the swollen tongue. Halima, Halima, the child of the scorpion
calls thee!"

Kouidah, the boy, who was ever about, ran barefoot from the court into
the cafe to tell of the doings of Ben-Abid, and in a moment the people
crowded in, Zouaves and Spahis, Arabs and negroes, nomads from the
south, gipsies, jugglers, and Jews. There were, too, some from Tamacine,
and these were of all the most intent.

"Where is Halima?" went up the cry. "Where is Halima?"

"Who calls me?" exclaimed the voice of a girl.

And Halima came out of her door on the first terrace at the left,
splendidly dressed for the dance in scarlet and gold, carrying two
scarlet handkerchiefs in her hands, and with the hedgehog's foot
dangling from her girdle of thin gold, studded with turquoises.

Ben-Abid stood below in the court with Sadok by his side. The crowd
pressed about him from behind.

"Thou hast called me the son of a scorpion, Halima," he said, in a loud
voice. "Is it not true?"

"It is true," she answered, with a venomous smile of hatred. "And thou
hast said that the hedgehog's foot, blessed by the great marabout
of Tamacine, would avail naught against the deadly sickness of a
dancing-girl. Is it not true?"

"It is true," answered Ben-Abid.

"Thou art a liar!" cried Halima.

"And so art thou!" said Ben-Abid slowly.

A deep murmur rose from the crowd, which pressed more closely beneath
the terrace, staring up at the scarlet figure upon it.

"If I am a liar thou canst not prove it!" cried Halima furiously. "I
spit upon thee! I spit upon thee!"

And she bent down her feathered head from the terrace and spat
passionately in his face.

Ben-Abid only laughed aloud.

"I can prove that I have spoken the truth," he said. "But if I am
indeed the son of a scorpion, as thou sayest, let my brothers speak for
me. Let my brothers declare to all the Sahara that the truth is in my
mouth. Sadok, remove thy turban!"

The plunger of the wells, with a frantic gesture, lifted his turban and
discovered the three scorpions writhing upon his shaven head. Another,
and longer, murmur went up from the crowd. But some shrank back and
trembled, for the desert Arabs are m