uld watch the
manoeuvres of the accomplices, at my ease. Mohammed was moaning like a
fallen man, deprived of his grandeur and dishonoured. I soon saw Zouhra
appear, charmingly adorned and carrying a nosegay in her hand; but the
other window, which had been indicated to me, remained unoccupied. After
ten minutes or so she became restless and began to pace up and down her
room in a way that conclusively proved her impatience.

Provided with a good opera-glass I carefully watched her goings-on.

Nearly half an hour elapsed. There was still nobody at the other window.
Mohammed, who became more and more downcast, was beginning to fear that
he would be unable to prove to me the full extent of my disgrace, when
suddenly the swift approach of my houri to her window betokened
something fresh. She lowered her nosegay by way of saluting, and my
glasses were at once turned to the direction in which she was darting
her glances.

On the third floor of the colonel's house I could see a splendid
drum-major in full uniform, with large epaulets, his chest bedizened
with broad gold braid and his hand resting upon his heart. As the room
was not high enough to accommodate the lofty plume towering above his
bearskin, my rival was leaning half out of the window, and his tricolour
insignium seemed to pierce the sky.

I remained dazzled at the sight of him: he glistened like the sun!

With Zouhra it had been love at first sight. The pantomimic business
gradually began on both sides; on the girl's part it was naive and still
restrained; on the drum-major's, ardent and passionate, though now and
then he struck a contemplative attitude. He showed her a letter and she
showed him another one, which she held in readiness. The sight made a
flush rise to Mohammed's brow.

In presence of such avowals doubt was no longer possible. The drum-major
soon became emboldened and raised the tips of his fingers to his lips.
His kisses journeyed through space; and then with his hands clasped he
begged of Zouhra to return them.

I must confess that the wretched girl defended herself for a few minutes
with bashful reserve. But she was so pressed and implored that at last I
saw her weaken, and anxious and hesitating, she yielded.

I was betrayed!

Mohammed sank down, uttering a plaintive moan. For my own part I thought
of my uncle's misfortune. Was it fate?

However, my uncle is not the only man who comes from Marseilles; I also
come from that city, and a