an judge him by myself, he'll be so happy, that he'll be
only too thankful to see our backs for the last time."

"He might feel safer to stick a knife in them."

"Oh, lord, I'm too hot to worry!" laughed Nevill. "Let's bid the boy
Godspeed, or the Mussulman equivalent, which is a lot more elaborate,
and then turn our thoughts to a bath of sorts and a dinner of sorts. I
think Providence has been good to us so far, and we can afford to trust
It. I'm sure Miss Ray would agree with me there." And Nevill glanced
with kind blue eyes toward the shut door behind which Victoria had
disappeared with her sister.

When at last the little Mohammed had been despatched with great ceremony
of politeness, as well as a present of Stephen's gold watch, the two
Englishmen watched him fade out of sight with his cavalcade of men from
the Zaouia, and saw that nothing moved in the southern distance.

"All's right with the world, and now for a wash and food!" cried Nevill,
turning in with a sigh of relief at the gate of the bordj. "But oh, by
the way--Hamish has got a letter for you--or is it Angus? Anyhow, it's
from my fairy aunt, which I would envy you, if she hadn't sent me on
something better--a post-card from Tlemcen. My tyrant goddess thinks
letters likely to give undue encouragement, but once in a while she
sheds the light of a post-card on me. Small favours thankfully
received--from that source!"

Inside the courtyard, the Highlanders were watching the three Arabs who
had travelled with them and their master, attending to the horses and
camels. These newcomers were being shown the ropes by the one servant of
the bordj, Stephen's men helping with grave good-nature. They all seemed
very friendly together, as is the way of Arabs, unless they inhabit
rival districts.

Hamish had the letter, and gave it to Stephen, who retired a few steps
to read it, and Nevill, seeing that the twins left all work to the
Arabs, ordered them to put his luggage into the musty-smelling room
which he was to share with Stephen, and to get him some kind of bath, if
it were only a tin pan.

Stephen did not listen to these directions, nor did he hear or see
anything that went on in the courtyard, for the next ten minutes. There
was, indeed, a short and characteristic letter from Lady MacGregor, but
it was only to say that she had finished and named the new game of
Patience for Victoria Ray, and that, after all, she enclosed him a
telegram, forwarded from Alg