boys and old
men, with donkeys loaded with dead palm-branches from the neighbouring
oasis, and the dry fronds made a loud swishing sound; but the dancers
paid no attention, and appeared to look through the old men and children
as if they did not exist.

In the market-place were the tired camels, kneeling down, looking
gloomily at their masters busy cooking supper on the sand. Negro sellers
of fruit and fly-embroidered lumps of meat, or brilliant-coloured
pottery, and cheap, bright stuffs, were rolling up their wares for the
night, in red and purple rags or tattered matting. Beggars lingered,
hoping for a stray dried date, or a coin before crawling off to secret
dens; and two deformed dwarfs in enormous turbans and blue coats,
claimed power as marabouts, chanting their own praises and the praises
of Allah, in high, cracked voices.

As Stephen rode to the hotel, and stopped in front of the arcade which
shaded the ground floor, Nevill and another man sprang up from chairs
pushed back against the white house-wall.

"By Jove, Legs, I'm glad to see you!" Nevill exclaimed, heartily, "What
news?"

"Nothing very great so far, I'm sorry to say. Much as we expected,"
Stephen answered. And as he spoke, he glanced at the stranger, as if
surprised that Nevill should speak out before him. The man wore the
smart uniform of the Chasseurs d'Afrique. He was quite young, not over
thirty-four, and had a keen, brave face, as Stephen could see by the
crude light of a lamp that was fixed in the wall. But the large grey
eyes, somewhat pale in contrast with deep sunburn, were the eyes of a
poet rather than those of a born soldier.

"I must introduce you and Captain Sabine to each other," Nevill went on,
in French, as Stephen got off his horse and it was led away by the Arab.
"He's staying at the hotel. He and I've been talking about the Zaouia
and--the marabout. The upshot of our conversation will astonish you. I
feel sure, when you hear it, you will think we can talk freely about our
business to Captain Sabine."

Stephen said something polite and vague. He was interested, of course,
but would have preferred to tell his adventure to Nevill alone.

"Monsieur Caird and I made acquaintance, and have been chatting all the
afternoon," volunteered Sabine. "To begin with, we find we have many
friends in common, in Algiers. Also he knows relations of mine, who have
spoken of me to him, so it is almost as if we had known each other
longer. He t