ways staring down (I shall never forget that moon); but
at each interval it had moved farther round overhead. At last it sank
behind the field of vision, and up "in that inverted bowl we call the
sky" the remote and passionless stars had it all to themselves.

About half-past three in the morning we were awakened suddenly by the
patter of rain on our faces, great single drops, which quickened into a
hurrying shower; while gusts of wind from the south-west rose and swept
round the corner of the low parapet against which we had put the heads of
the beds. One glance showed that the sky was overcast; it was very dark,
most of the stars were hidden, and there was an ominous sound of rain in
the wind. The fondak is notably a wet resting-place, for it lies on the
top of the watershed which divides the plains of Tetuan and Tangier, and
it draws the clouds like a magnet.

One of us put up a sun-umbrella, which had been useful on the hot ride
the day before; it kept an end of one bed more or less dry, and
fortunately the shower did not last long, while underneath warm bedding
it was possible to keep dry for a time. The wind rose, however, and
forced itself in at every fold of the bedclothes. We had carefully
arranged all our kit under the parapet close to the beds, partly to
prevent its being stolen, which sometimes happens if left out of the
owner's reach, partly to prevent its rolling or blowing off the
unprotected edge of the roof.

The sunset of the night before had not foretold wind; but wind there
began rapidly to be, and by-and-by the lid of one of our cooking-pots
bowled along the roof, fell over the edge, and rattled on the stones in
the square below: a cloth belonging to the cuisine took flight next over
the outer wall, and was seen no more. We lay speculating on what might
follow. Then another shower began; but the clouds were lifting a little,
and it was short if it was sharp; while underneath the blankets there
was not much to complain of.

At four o'clock a sound of life began down below; the muleteers were all
up and stirring in the square. Lights were lit, for since the moon and
stars had been obscured, the night had turned from brilliant light into
one of shadows and blackness. Was there to be more rain? Nothing else
mattered. In this fine interval--for the last shower was stopping--it
seemed wise to get up and dress and have our bedding rolled together:
neither of us was going to move into the rooms. Certainl