f the same name. Great marabout hangs out there--kind
of Mussulman pope of the desert. I hope to goodness----"

"What?" Stephen asked, as Nevill broke off suddenly.

"Oh, nothing to fash yourself about, as the twins would say. Only--it
would be awkward if she's there. Harder to get her out. However--time to
cross the stile when we come to it."

But Stephen crossed a great many stiles with his mind before that
darkest hour before the dawn, when he was called to get ready for the
last stage of the journey.

Lady MacGregor was up to see them off, and never had her cap been more
elaborate, or her hair been dressed more daintily.

"You'll wire me from the end of the world, won't you?" she asked
briskly. "Paul and I (and Hamish and Angus if necessary) will be ready
to rush you all three back to civilization the instant you arrive with
Miss Ray. Give her my love. Tell her I've brought clothes for her. They
mayn't be what she'd choose, but I dare say she won't be sorry to see
them. And by the way, if there are telegrams--you know I told the
servants to send them on from home--shall I wire them on to Oued Tolga?"

"No. We're tramps, with no address," laughed Nevill. "Anything that
comes can wait till we get back."

Stephen could not have told why, for he was not thinking of Margot, but
suddenly he was convinced that a telegram from her was on the way,
fixing the exact date when she might be expected in England.

XLIII

Since the day when Victoria had called Stephen to her help, always she
had expected him. She had great faith, for, in her favourite way, she
had "made a picture of him," riding up and down among the dunes, with
the "knightly" look on his face which had first drawn her thoughts to
him. Always her pictures had materialized sooner or later, since she was
a little girl, and had first begun painting them with her mind, on a
golden background.

She spent hours on the roof, with Saidee or alone, looking out over the
desert, through the field-glasses which Maieddine had sent to her. Very
often Saidee would remain below, for Victoria's prayers were not her
prayers, nor were Victoria's wishes her wishes. But invariably the older
woman would come up to the roof just before sunset, to feed the doves
that lived in the minaret.

At first Victoria had not known that her sister had any special reason
for liking to feed the doves, but she was an observant, though not a
sophisticated girl; and when she had live