Tents of Purple and Gold."

"Ah!" whispered the girl. "The Tents of the long-dead Queen! They are
the talk of Cairo, but nobody--at least, no foreigner--has seen them."

"No man but the servants, no woman but the mother of him who is the
master, has even set foot within the Tents of Purple and of Gold; no
one but the master has set foot in the tent which stands between them,
the Tent of Death."

"And in them--if I come, what--what should I find?"

"No harm shall befall thee, no smirching of thy fair name. The master
alone shall greet thee, and when thou hast found that for which thou
searchest, then shalt thou return, if so thou wilt."

"And peace--rest I think I mean--is it in your Tents of Purple and
Gold?"

"Peace is to be found within the Temple of Anubis, who is the god of
Death, and there only."

The girl shivered and lifted her head, as from some part of the hotel
there drifted the wonderful desert love-song which begins:

"My love for thee is as the sun at noon----"

Then she looked at the man whose face she had not plainly seen in the
passing of the hour.

"How am I to believe you? Will you give me a sign, something,
anything, so that I shall know that if I ever want to visit the
wonderful tents I shall find them?"

She only spoke to gain time.

Knowing that outside the curtain there stretched the path across the
Field of Content, she deliberately placed her foot upon the desert
sand, and whilst common sense urged her to get out of the room, she
listened to temptation and lingered, throwing safety to the four winds,
opening wide her arms to danger.

"By the sign of the black stallion who awaits thee at dawn near all
that remaineth upright of the City of On, shalt thou find the Tents of
Purple and Gold."

"But I don't ride any more," said Damaris. "I can't find a horse, a
good one, and I don't know where the City of On is."

"Thou shall know, thou ivory casket to which love is the key. And if
thou see'st one afar off as thou ridest into the desert at dawn, fear
not; for behold, is thy beauty spoken of, yea, even in the harem, and
it were not wise for thee to ride alone."

The girl put out her hand towards the silken curtain.

"How do you know who I am?"

"By thy voice, which is as the wind of dawn."

She hesitated, divided between a desire to know more about this man and
an innate courtesy which forbade her questioning.

"Search not, ask not, woman," said the fortune-teller, divin