o lived in a cave of evil yellow stones,
guarding a hidden spring which gushed into the river.

On Miluda's roof there was music, which could be heard from another
roof, nearer the minaret where the doves wheeled and moaned; and perhaps
the marabout himself could hear it, as he approached the Zaouia; but
though it called him with a song of love and welcome, he did not answer
the call at once. First he took Maieddine into his private reception
room, where he received only the guests whom he most delighted to
honour.

There, though the ceiling and walls were decorated in Arab fashion, with
the words, El Afia el Bakia, "eternal health," inscribed in lettering of
gold and red, opposite the door, all the furniture was French, gilded,
and covered with brocade of scarlet and gold. The curtains draped over
the inlaid cedar-wood shutters of the windows were of the same brocade,
and the beautiful old rugs from Turkey and Persia could not soften its
crudeness. The larger reception room from which this opened had still
more violent decorations, for there the scarlet mingled with vivid blue,
and there were curiosities enough to stock a museum--presents sent to
the marabout from friends and admirers all over the world. There were
first editions of rare books, illuminated missals, dinner services of
silver and gold, Dresden and Sevres, and even Royal Worcester; splendid
crystal cases of spoons and jewellery; watches old and new; weapons of
many countries, and an astonishing array of clocks, all ticking, and
pointing to different hours. But the inner room, which only the intimate
friends of Sidi Mohammed ever saw, was littered with no such incongruous
collection. On the walls were a few fine pictures by well-known French
artists of the most modern school, mostly representing nude women; for
though the Prophet forbade the fashioning of graven images, he made no
mention of painting. There were comfortable divans, and little tables,
on which were displayed boxes of cigars and cigarettes, and egg-shell
coffee-cups in filigree gold standards.

In this room, behind shut doors, Maieddine told his errand, not
forgetting to enumerate in detail the great things he could do for the
Cause, if his wish were granted. He did not speak much of Victoria, or
his love for her, but he knew that the marabout must reckon her beauty
by the price he was prepared to pay; and he gave the saint little time
to picture her fascinations. Nor did Sidi Mohammed tal