the
oasis of Djazerta was famous; and the officer sent to the Agha a parcel
of French books, or some new invention in the shape of a clock, such as
Arabs love. Now he was sending his daughter.

The way of it was this: just before Sanda's surprise arrival, the Agha
of Djazerta, chief of the Ouled-Mendil, had written a confidential
letter to Colonel DeLisle. He had a young daughter whom he adored.
Foolishly (he began to think) he had let her learn French, and allowed
her to read French novels. These books had made the girl discontented
with her cloistered life. Being the only child, and always rather
delicate, perhaps she had been too much spoiled. Greater freedom than
she had could not be granted; but seeing her sad Ben Raana had asked
himself what he could do for her happiness. Before long she would marry,
of course; but it had occurred to him that meanwhile it might be well if
a companion could be found who would be a safe friend for a girl of
Ourieda's position and religion. Did Colonel DeLisle know of any young
gentlewoman, English or French, who would be willing to come to
Djazerta? She must be educated and accomplished, but above all
trustworthy; one who would not try to make Ourieda wish for a life that
could never be hers: one who would not attempt to unsettle the child's
religious beliefs. In writing this letter Ben Raana had shown a naif
sort of conceit in his own broad-mindedness, which would have been
rather comic if it had not been pathetic. But to DeLisle it was only
pathetic, because, European though he was, he knew the hidden romance of
the Agha's life: his worship of a beautiful Spanish wife who had died
years ago, and for love of whom he had vowed never to take into his
harem any other woman, although he had no son. His nearest male relative
was a nephew, to whom DeLisle imagined that some day Ourieda would be
married, though the young man was at least a dozen years older than
she.

When the letter came, Colonel DeLisle knew of no such person as Ben
Raana asked for; but he had not answered yet when Sanda unexpectedly
appeared. Hardly had he recovered from the first shock of his surprise
when he remembered the great march soon to be undertaken--a march
ostensibly for maneuvers, but in reality to punish a band of desert
raiders, and later, men of the Legion were to begin the laying of a new
road in the far south, even beyond Djazerta. There would be no long rest
for the colonel of the First Regiment fo