y who does not speak though he is more than six seasons
old."

Ahmet squatted down by her side.

"Woman," said he, "tell me something that is not the talk of river and I
will believe your magic."

"To-morrow your master, the lord Sandi, will send you a book which will
give you happiness," she said.

"Every day my lord sends me a book," retorted the sceptical Ahmet, "and
each brings me happiness. Also it is common talk that at this time
there come messengers carrying bags of silver and salt to pay men
according to their services."

Undismayed she tried her last shot.

"You have a crooked finger which none can straighten--behold!"

She took his hand in hers and pressed the injured phlange. A sharp pain
shot up his arm and he winced, pulling back his hand--but the year-old
dislocation which had defied the effort of the coast doctor was
straightened out, and though the movement was exquisitely painful he
could bend it.

"I see you are a true witch," he said, greatly impressed, for a native
has a horror of deformity of any kind, and he sent back word of the
phenomenon to Sanders.

Sanders at the same time was in receipt of other news which alternately
pleased him and filled him with panic. The mail had come in by fast
launch and had brought Captain Hamilton of the Houssas a very bulky
letter written in a feminine hand. He had broken the glad news to
Commissioner Sanders, but that gentleman was not certain in his mind
whether the startling intelligence conveyed by the letter was good or
bad.

"I'm sure the country will suit her," he said, "this part of the country
at any rate--but what will Bones say?"

"Bones!" repeated Captain Hamilton scornfully. "What the dickens does
it matter what Bones says?"

Nevertheless, he went to the sea-end of the verandah, and his roar
rivalled the thunder of the surf.

"Bones!"

There was no answer and for an excellent reason.

Sanders came out of the bungalow, his helmet on the back of his head, a
cheroot tilted dizzily.

"Where is he?" he asked.

Hamilton turned.

"I asked him to--at least I didn't ask him, he volunteered--to peg out a
trench line."

"Expect an invasion?" asked Sanders.

Hamilton grinned.

"Bones does," he said. "He's full of the idea, and offered to give me
tips on the way a trench should be dug--he's feeling rotten about things
... you know what I mean. His regiment was at Mons."

Sanders nodded.

"I understand," he said quietly. "And you .