nkly," he said. "Do you wish to talk or to be silent?"

"I wish to speak to you."

"I am sorry now I asked you to test Aloui's powers."

"Why?"

"Because I fear they made an unpleasant impression upon you."

"That was not why I made you stop him."

"No?"

"You don't understand me. I was not afraid. I can only say that, but I
can't give you my reason for stopping him. I wished to tell you that it
was not fear."

"I believe--I know that you are fearless," he said with an unusual
warmth. "You are sure that I don't understand you?"

"Remember the refrain of the Freed Negroes' song!"

"Ah, yes--those black fellows. But I know something of you, Miss
Enfilden--yes, I do."

"I would rather you did--you and your garden."

"And--some day--I should like you to know a little more of me."

"Thank you. When will you come back?"

"I can't tell. But you are not leaving?"

"Not yet."

The idea of leaving Beni-Mora troubled her heart strangely.

"No, I am too happy here."

"Are you really happy?"

"At any rate I am happier than I have ever been before."

"You are on the verge."

He was looking at her with eyes in which there was tenderness, but
suddenly they flashed fire, and he exclaimed:

"My desert land must not bring you despair."

She was startled by his sudden vehemence.

"What I would not hear!" she said. "You know it!"

"It is not my fault. I am ready to tell it to you."

"No. But do you believe it? Do you believe that man can read the future
in the sand? How can it be?"

"How can a thousand things be? How can these desert men stand in fire,
with their naked feet set on burning brands, with burning brands under
their armpits, and not be burned? How can they pierce themselves with
skewers and cut themselves with knives and no blood flow? But I told you
the first day I met you; the desert always makes me the same gift when I
return to it."

"What gift?"

"The gift of belief."

"Then you do believe in that man--Aloui?"

"Do you?"

"I can only say that it seemed to me as if it might be divination. If I
had not felt that I should not have stopped it. I should have treated it
as a game."

"It impressed you as it impresses me. Well, for both of us the desert
has gifts. Let us accept them fearlessly. It is the will of Allah."

She remembered her vision of the pale procession. Would she walk in it
at last?

"You are as fatalistic as an Arab," she said.

"And you?"

"I!" she answered simp