where one has but to rub a lamp, and a powerful djinn brings everything
one wants."

"The Lord Maieddine is the powerful djinn who has brought all thou
couldst possibly desire, without giving thee even the trouble to wish
for things," said Fafann, showing her white teeth, and glancing sidelong
at the Roumia. "These are not all. Many of these things thou hast seen
already. Yet there are more." Eagerly she lifted from the ground, which
was covered with rugs, a large green earthern jar. "It is full of
rosewater to bathe thy face, for the water of the desert here is
brackish, and harsh to the skin, because of saltpetre. The Sidi ordered
enough rosewater to last till Ghardaia, in the M'Zab country. Then he
will get thee more."

"But it is for us both--for Lella M'Barka more than for me," protested
Victoria.

Fafann laughed. "My mistress no longer spends time in thinking of her
skin. She prays much instead; and the Sidi has given her an amulet which
touched the sacred Black Stone at Mecca. To her, that is worth all the
rest; and it is worth this great journey, which she takes with so much
pain. The rosewater, and the perfumes from Tunis, and the softening
creams made in the tent of the Sidi's mother, are all offered to thee."

"No, no," the girl persisted, "I am sure they are meant more for Lella
M'Barka than for me. She is his cousin."

"Hast thou never noticed the caravans, when they have passed us in the
desert, how it is always the young and beautiful women who rest in the
bassourahs, while the old ones trot after the camels?"

"I have noticed that, and it is very cruel."

"Why cruel, oh Roumia? They have had their day. And when a man has but
one camel, he puts upon its back his treasure, the joy of his heart. A
man must be a man, so say even the women. And the Sidi is a man, as well
as a great lord. He is praised by all as a hunter, and for the
straightness of his aim with a gun. He rides, thou seest, as if he were
one with his horse, and as he gallops in the desert, so would he gallop
to battle if need be, for he is brave as the Libyan lion, and strong as
the heroes of old legends. Yet there is nothing too small for him to
bend his mind upon, if it be for thy pleasure and comfort. Thou shouldst
be proud, instead of denying that all the Sidi does is for thee. My
mistress would tell thee so, and many women would be dying of envy,
daughters of Aghas and even of Bach Aghas. But perhaps, as thou art a
Roumia, thou