squares, the minute interstices of the
mashrubiyeh, she saw the city taking on the hues of sunset.

Suddenly the cry of a muezzin from a nearby minaret came rising and
falling through the streets.

"_La illahe illallah Mohammedun Ressoulallah_--"

The call swelled and died away and rose again ... There is no God
but _the_ God and Mahomet is the Prophet of God ... From farther
towers it sounded, echoing and re-echoing, vibrant, insistent,
falling upon crowded streets, penetrating muffling walls.

"_La illahe illallah_--"

In the avenue beneath her two Arabs, leading their camels to market,
were removing their shoes and going through the gestures of
ceremonial washing with the dust of the street.

"_La illahe_--"

The city was ringing with it.

The seamstress and the Frenchwoman, still talking, had passed down
the hall. In the next room Miriam's lips were moving in pious
testimony.

"_Ech hedu en la illahe_--! I testify that there is no God but _the_
God."

In the street the Arabs were bowing towards the east, their heads
touching the earth.

And in the window above them a girl was reading a note.

* * * * *

The last call of the muezzin, falling from the tardy towers of Kait
Bey drifted faintly through the colored air. With resounding whacks
the Arabs were urging on their beast; Miriam, her prayers concluded,
was shaking out silks and tulle with a sidelong glance for that
still figure in the next room, pressing so close against the
guarding screens.

She could not see the pallor in the young face. She could not see
the tumult in the dark eyes. She could not see the note, crushed
convulsively against the beating breast, in the fingers which so few
moments ago had drawn it from the hiding place in the box.

Ryder had not dared a personal letter. But clearly, and distinctly,
he stated the story of the Delcasses. He gave the facts which the
pasha admitted and the ingenious explanation of the two Aimees. And
for reference he gave the address of the Delcasse aunt and agent in
France and of Ryder and McLean at the Agricultural Bank.

* * * * *

The pasha did not dine with his daughter that night. He had been
avoiding her of late, a natural reaction from the strain of
too-excessive gratitude. A man cannot be continually humble before
the young! And it was no pleasure to be reminded by her candid eyes
of his late misfortunes and of her absurd re