he and Sabine had talked them all over, and decided that, on
the whole, there was no great danger of treachery from the marabout, who
stood to lose too much, to gain too little, by breaking faith. As for
Maieddine, he was ill with fever, so the sisters said, and Saidee and
Victoria believed that he had been kept in ignorance of the marabout's
bargain. Altogether, circumstances seemed to have combined in their
favour. Ben Halim's wife was naturally suspicious and fearful, after her
long martyrdom, but there was no new reason for uneasiness. Only,
Stephen reminded himself, he must not neglect the slightest wavering of
the weather-vane. And in every shadow he must look for a sign.

They had not made a hurried march from the desert city, for Stephen and
Sabine had calculated the hour at which Nevill might have received the
summons, and the time he would take on the return journey. It was
possible, Lady MacGregor being what she was, that she might have rewired
the telegram to a certain bordj, the only telegraph station between
Touggourt and Oued Tolga. If she had done this, and the message had
caught Nevill, many hours would be saved. Instead of getting to the
bordj about midnight, tired out with a long, quick march, he might be
expected before dark. Even so, Stephen would be well ahead, for, as the
caravan came to the gate of the bordj, it was only six o'clock, blazing
afternoon still, and hot as midday, with the fierce, golden heat of the
desert towards the end of May.

The big iron gates were wide open, and nothing stirred in the quadrangle
inside; but as Stephen rode in, one of the Frenchmen he remembered
slouched out of a room where the wooden shutters of the window were
closed for coolness. His face was red, and he yawned as he came forward,
rubbing his eyes as if he had been asleep. But he welcomed Stephen
politely, and seeing that a good profit might be expected from so large
a party, he roused himself to look pleased.

"I must have a room for two ladies," said Stephen, "and I am expecting a
friend with a small caravan, to arrive from the north. However, six of
my Arabs will go back when he comes. You must do the best you can for
us, but nothing is of any importance compared to the ladies' comfort."

"Certainly, I will do my best," the keeper of the bordj assured him.
"But as you see, our accommodation is humble. It is strained when we
have four or five officers for the night, and though I and my brother
have bee