th the other. They were now staying in the same hotel
in this oasis in the desert of Sahara.

In coming to the hotel, Domini had seen a curious incident. Androvsky,
with a guide who carried his bag, was walking before her down the long
public garden, when in the distance there appeared the black figure of
the priest of Beni-Mora advancing slowly towards them. When Androvsky
saw the priest he had stopped short, hesitated, then, despite the
protests of his guide, had abruptly turned down a side path and hurried
away. He had fled from the man of prayer.

Now, as the twilight fell, Domini thought of this incident, and when she
heard Androvsky's heavy tread upon the stairs of the verandah, the sharp
closing of the French window of his room, she was filled with a vague
uneasiness.

Next day she visited a wonderful garden on the edge of the desert
belonging to a Count Anteoni, a recluse who loved the Arabs and spent
much of his time among them. There, standing with the count by the
garden wall at the hour of the Mohammedan's prayer, she had seen
Androvsky again. He was in the desert with a Nomad. The cry of the
_muezzin_ went up to the brazen sky. The Nomad fell on his knees and
prayed. Androvsky started, gazed, shrank back, then turned and strode
away like one horrified by some grievous vision. Domini said to the
count, "I have just seen a man flee from prayer; it was horrible."

He answered her, very gravely, "The man who is afraid of prayer is
unwise to set foot beyond the palm-trees, for the desert is the garden
of Allah."

That evening Domini and Androvsky spoke to each other for the first
time, on the top of a tower where they had come to see the sunset.
Domini spoke first, moved by a strange look of loneliness, of
desolation, in Androvsky's eyes. He replied in a low voice, and asked
her pardon for his rude conduct at the station. Then, abruptly, he
descended the tower and disappeared.

At night she visited a dancing house to see the strange dances of the
desert. She found Androvsky there, watching the painted women as if half
fascinated, half horrified by them. Irena, a girl who had been banished
from Beni-Mora for threatening to murder an Arab of whom she was
jealous, but had been permitted to return, discovering him among the
audience, stabbed him. There was a violent scene, during which
Androvsky, forcing his way through the desert men, protected Domini from
the crush. The crowd rushed out, leaving them alone