At about three o'clock the dancer's car appeared, and the girl,
veiled as usual, stepped out, and having exchanged a few words with
the Indian, began to walk slowly towards me, sometimes pausing to
watch a bird in the boughs above her and sometimes to examine some
wild plant growing beside the way. I ate cheese from the point of a
clasp-knife and drank wine out of the bottle.

Suddenly she saw me.

She had cast her veil aside in order to enjoy the cool and fragrant
air, and as she stopped and regarded me doubtfully where I sat, I saw
her beautiful face, undefiled, now, by make-up and unspoiled by the
presence of garish Eastern ornaments. _Nom d'un nom!_ but she was truly
a lovely woman! My heart went out in sympathy to the poor Grand Duke.
Had I received such a mark of favour from her as he had received, and
had I then been scorned as now she scorned him, I should have been
desperate indeed.

Coming around a bend in the path, then, she stood only a few paces
away, looking at me. I touched the peak of my cap.

"Good-day, mademoiselle," I said. "The weather is very beautiful."

"Good-day," she replied.

I continued to eat cheese, and reassured she walked on past me. Twenty
yards beyond, the Grand Duke was waiting. As I laid down my knife upon
the paper which had been wrapped around the bread and cheese, and
raised the bottle to my lips, the enamoured nobleman stepped out from
the trees and bowed low before Zara el-Khala.

She started back from him--a movement of inimitable grace, like that
of a startled gazelle. And even before I had time to get upon my feet
she had raised a little silver whistle to her lips and blown a short
shrill note.

The Grand Duke, endeavouring to seize her hand, was pouring out
voluble expressions of adoration in execrable French, and Zara
el-Khala was retreating step by step. She had quickly thrown the veil
about her again. I heard the pad of swiftly running feet. If I was to
intervene before the arrival of the Hindu, I must act rapidly. I raced
along the path and thrust myself between the Grand Duke and the girl.

"Mademoiselle," I said, "is this gentleman annoying you?"

"How dare you, low pig!" cried the Grand Duke, and with a sweep of his
powerful arm he hurled me aside.

"Thank you," replied Zara el-Khala with great composure. "But my
servant is here."

As I turned, Chunda Lal hurled himself upon the Grand Duke from behind.
I had never seen an expression in a man's eyes like