and did she pass where two
streets crossed, she would stand and face both ways.

And as the years grew she came to know all places within and around
Tetuan, the town of the Moors and the Mellah of the Jews, the Kasbah
and the narrow lane leading up to it, the fort on the hill and the river
under the town walls, the mountains on either side of the valley, and
even some of their rocky gorges. She could find her way among them all
without help or guidance, and no control could any one impose upon her
to keep her out of the way of harm. While Ali was a little fellow he was
her constant companion, always ready for any adventure that her unquiet
heart suggested; but when he grew to be a boy, and was sent to school
every day early and late, she would fare forth alone save for a tiny
white goat which her father had bought to be another playfellow.

And because feeling was sight to her, and touch was hearing, and the
crown of her head felt the winds of the heavens and the soles of her
feet felt the grass of the fields, she loved best to go bareheaded
whether the sun was high or the air was cool, and barefooted also, from
the rising of the morning until the coming of the stars. So, casting off
her slippers and the great straw hat which a Jewish maiden wears, and
clad in her white woollen shawl, wrapped loosely about her in folds of
airy grace, and with the little goat going before her, though she could
neither see nor hear it, she would climb the hill beyond the battery,
and stand on the summit, like a spirit poised in air. She could see
nothing of the green valley then stretched before her, or of the white
town lying below, with its domes and minarets, but she seemed to exult
in her lofty place, and to drink new life from the rush of mighty winds
about her. Then coming back to the dale, she would seem, to those who
looked up at her, with fear and with awe, to leap as the goat leapt
in the rocky places; and as a bird sweeps over the grass with wings
outstretched, so with her arms spread out, and her long fair hair flying
loose, she would sweep down the hill, as though her very tiptoes did not
touch it.

By what power she did these things no man could tell, except it were
the power of the spiritual world itself; but the distemper of the mind,
which loved such dangers, increased upon her as she grew from a child
into a maid, and it found new ways of strangeness. Thus, in the spring,
when the rain fell heavily, or in the winter, w