ost homesick enough
to turn coward and go back with his errand not done. Curiously enough,
he felt, too, that she had somewhat the same feeling about him. Silently
they were helping each other through a crisis.

"I hadn't thought of staying in Algeria," he answered her at last. "I
don't suppose I shall stay. But--I don't know. Just now my future's
hidden behind a big cloud."

"Like mine!" cried Sanda DeLisle. "Does it comfort you at all to know
there's some one here, close to your side, who's walking in the dark,
exactly as you are?"

It was the thought that had hovered, dim and wordless, in his own mind.
"Yes, it does comfort me," he said. "Though I ought to be sorry that
things aren't clear for you. They will be, though, I hope, before long."

"And for you," she added. "I wish we could exchange experiences when
we've found out what's going to become of us. I wish you were going on
to Sidi-bel-Abbes."

"I wish I were," Max said, and he did actually wish it.

"Will you write and tell me what happens to you?" she rather timidly
asked.

"I should like to. It's good of you to care."

"It's not good, but I _do_ care. How could I help it, after all you've
done for me?"

"You'll never know what it was to me to have the chance. And will you
write what your father's verdict is? If you should be going back,
perhaps I----"

"Oh, I shall not be going back!" the girl cried, with sharp decision.
"But I'll write. And I shall never forget. If men disappoint me--though
I hope, oh, _so_ much, they will not--I shall remember one loyal friend
I have made. After last night and to-day, we couldn't be _less_ than
friends, could we? even though we never hear from each other again."

"Thank you for saying that. I feel it, too, more than you can," Max
assured her. "But since we're to be friends, will you let me help you
all I can, and see you again on shore, before we go our separate ways?
Let me find out about your train, and take you to it, and so on; and
perhaps you'll dine with me, if there's time before you start."

"How good you are!" She gave him one of those soft, sweet glances,
which, unlike Billie Brookton's lovely looks, were prompted by no
conscious desire to charm. "But you will be so busy with your own
affairs!"

"Not too busy for that. I don't suppose it will be very difficult to get
at what I've come for. I shall soon know--one way or the other. I may
have to go on somewhere else, but one day won't matter. I can