old garden. Those trees must have seen many,
many years, she thought, and felt again that sense of vague
oppression and melancholy which the lonely rooms of the palace had
given her; that row of acacias which cast such crooked shadows over
the path had been planted by very long-ago hands.

So she thought fleetingly, then stared about, her concern for other
things. Captain Kerissen lighted a cigarette; over his cupped hands
his eyes followed hers searchingly.

"That is the hall of banquets?" she said, pointing to the raised
colonnade.

"Ah, yes--you are quick to learn!" he complimented.

"And could we walk through that into the courtyard?"

"Undoubtedly."

"And this side is the _haremlik_," she murmured, glancing up at the
windows upon the third floor which she felt were those of that rose
and white room. Much of the rest of the wing, she saw, extending
down to the high wall at right angles to it, was in a ruinous and
dilapidated condition. "What is there?" she asked.

"The rooms the Khedive Ismail left unfinished. They are of no use."

"And on the other side?" she persisted, pointing towards the wall
that was the continuation of the men's wing, which stopped at the
colonnade.

"On the other side is the palace of another man, and on the other
side of that, ending the road is a _cimitere_--what you say,
cemetery."

"And back of _that_ wall?" She nodded at the one behind the palms,
running parallel to the banquet hall.

"Back of that a canal, Mademoiselle, and across are other
palaces.... You study the geography, it appears?"

"Indeed I do!" She turned towards him, her face bright with
eagerness. Her light curls were blown about her forehead by a
breeze, hot and dry, that seemed to mingle the odors of the desert
with a piercing sweetness which it drew from the deep throats of the
lilies swaying beside the path. "And I think _that_ is going to be
the way out for me." Her quick nod was for the wall behind the
palms. "I want you to do me a great big favor, Captain Kerissen,
that will make me your debtor for life! You must help me break out
of this quarantine this very night?"

Not the ghost of a fear of failure to persuade him lurked in those
bright, dancing eyes. Not the ghost of a fear of failure haunted
those confident, smiling lips.

He sucked on his cigarette a moment, then slowly blew a thin ring of
blue smoke. He appeared interested in watching it.

"What is it--this idea?" he murmured.

"Well,