She led the way to the dining-tent. De Trevignac glanced at the table
laid for three with an eager anticipation which he was far too natural
to try to conceal.

"Madame," he said, "if I disgrace myself to-night, if I eat like an ogre
in a fairy tale, will you forgive me?"

"I will not forgive you if you don't."

She spoke gaily, made him sit down in a folding-chair, and insisted
on putting a soft cushion at his back. Her manner was cheerful, almost
eagerly kind and full of a camaraderie rare in a woman, yet he noticed a
change in her since they stood together waving the brands by the tower.
And he said to himself:

"The husband--perhaps he's not so pleased at my appearance. I wonder how
long they've been married?"

And he felt his curiosity to see "Monsieur Androvsky" deepen.

While they waited for him Domini made De Trevignac tell her the story of
his terrible adventure in the dunes. He did so simply, like a soldier,
without exaggeration. When he had finished she said:

"You thought death was certain then?"

"Quite certain, Madame."

She looked at him earnestly.

"To have faced a death like that in utter desolation, utter loneliness,
must make life seem very different afterwards."

"Yes, Madame. But I did not feel utterly alone."

"Your men!"

"No, Madame."

After a pause he added, simply:

"My mother is a devout Catholic, Madame. I am her only child, and--she
taught me long ago that in any peril one is never quite alone."

Domini's heart warmed to him. She loved this trust in God so frankly
shown by a soldier, member of an African regiment, in this wild land.
She loved this brave reliance on the unseen in the midst of the terror
of the seen. Before they spoke again Androvsky crossed the dark space
between the tents and came slowly into the circle of the lamplight.

De Trevignac got up from his chair, and Domini introduced the two men.
As they bowed each shot a swift glance at the other. Then Androvsky
looked down, and two vertical lines appeared on his high forehead above
his eyebrows. They gave to his face a sudden look of acute distress. De
Trevignac thanked him for his proffered hospitality with the ease of a
man of the world, assuming that the kind invitation to him and to his
men came from the husband as well as from the wife. When he had finished
speaking, Androvsky, without looking up, said, in a voice that sounded
to Domini new, as if he had deliberately assumed it:

"I am glad, Mons