othing in return; so I thought, as I was
on my way to you and would soon see you, I might part with that brooch,
which he admired. If Si Maieddine wore it in Algiers, and Mr. Knight
saw----"

"Would he be likely to recognize it, do you think?"

"He noticed it on the boat, and I told him you gave it to me."

"If he would come all the way from Algiers on the strength of a brooch
which might have been yours, and you _might_ have given to Maieddine,
then he's a man who knows what he wants, and deserves to get it," Saidee
said. "If he _could_ help us! I should feel rewarded for telling Honore
I wouldn't go with him; because some day I may be free, and then perhaps
I shall be glad I waited----"

"You will be glad. Whatever happens, you'll be glad," Victoria insisted.

"Maybe. But now--what are we to do? We can see him, and you can
recognize him with the field-glass, but unless he has a glass too, he
can't see who you are--he can't see at all, because by the time he rides
near enough, the ground dips down so that even our heads will be hidden
from him by the wall round the roof. And he'll be hidden from us, too.
If he asks for you, he'll be answered only by stares of surprise. Cassim
will pretend not to know what he's talking about. And presently he'll
have to go away without finding out anything."

"He'll come back," said Victoria, firmly. But her eyes were not as
bright with the certainty of happiness as they had been.

"What if he does? Or it may be that he'll try to come back, and an
accident will happen to him. I hate to frighten you. But Arabs are
jealous--and Maieddine's a true Arab. He looks upon you almost as his
wife now. In a week or two you will be, unless----"

"Yes. Unless--_unless_!" echoed Victoria. "Don't lose hope, Saidee, for
I shan't. Let's think of something to do. He's near enough now, maybe,
to notice if we wave our handkerchiefs."

"Many women on roofs in Africa wave to men who will never see their
faces. He won't know who waves."

"He will _feel_. Besides, he's searching for me. At this very minute,
perhaps, he's thinking of the golden silence I talked about, and looking
up to the white roofs."

Instantly they began to wave their handkerchiefs of embroidered silk,
such as Arab ladies use. But there came no answering signal. Evidently,
if the rider were looking at a white roof, he had chosen one which was
not theirs. And soon he would be descending the slope of the Zaouia
hill. After that t