rom Domini's fingers and rolled upon the sand at the
Diviner's feet. But though he had surely come to ask for alms, he took
no heed of it. While the Arabs round him fell upon their knees and
fought like animals for the plunder, he stood gaping at Domini. The
smile still flickered about his lips. His hand was still stretched out.

Instinctively she had moved backwards. Something that was like a thrill
of fear, mental, not physical, went through her, but she kept her eyes
steadily on his, as if, despite the fear, she fought against him.

The contest of the beggars had become so passionate that Count Anteoni's
commands were forgotten. Urged by the pressure from behind those in
the front scrambled or fell over the sacred threshold. The garden was
invaded by a shrieking mob. Smain ran forward, and the autocrat that
dwelt in the Count side by side with the benefactor suddenly emerged. He
blew his whistle four times. At each call a stalwart Arab appeared.

"Shut the gate!" he commanded sternly.

The attendants furiously repulsed the mob, using their fists and feet
without mercy. In the twinkling of an eye the sand was cleared and Smain
had his hand upon the door to shut it. But the Diviner stopped him with
a gesture, and in a fawning yet imperious voice called out something to
the Count.

The Count turned to Domini.

"This is an interesting fellow. Would you like to know him?"

Her mind said no, yet her body assented. For she bowed her head. The
Count beckoned. The Diviner stepped stealthily on to the sand with an
air of subtle triumph, and Smain swung forward the great leaf of palm
wood.

"Wait!" the Count cried, as if suddenly recollecting something. "Where
is Monsieur Androvsky?"

"Isn't he----?" Domini glanced round. "I don't know."

He went quickly to the door and looked out. The Arabs, silent now and
respectful, crowded about him, salaaming. He smiled at them kindly,
and spoke to one or two. They answered gravely. An old man with one
eye lifted his hand, in which was a tomtom of stretched goatskin, and
pointed towards the oasis, rapidly moving his toothless jaws. The Count
stepped back into the garden, dismissed his pensioners with a masterful
wave of the hand, and himself shut the door.

"Monsieur Androvsky has gone--without saying good-bye," he said.

Again Domini felt ashamed for Androvsky.

"I don't think he likes my pensioners," the Count added, in amused
voice, "or me."

"I am sure--" Domini began.