and one year exactly
like another."

"Was it long ago?"

"No, not very long. Only some months. Oh, perhaps it may be a year by
now, but not more. Poor fellow! I suppose he was a man who didn't know
himself, Madame, and the devil tempted him."

"But after twenty years!" said Domini.

The thing seemed to her almost incredible.

"That man must be in hell now," she added. "In the hell a man can make
for himself by his own act. Oh, here is my husband."

Androvsky stood in the tent door, looking in upon them with startled,
scrutinising eyes. He had come over the deep sand without noise. Neither
Domini nor the priest had heard a footstep. The priest got up from his
chair and bowed genially.

"Good-evening, Monsieur," he said, not waiting for any introduction. "I
am the Aumonier of Amara, and----"

He paused in the full flow of his talk. Androvsky's eyes had wandered
from his face to the table, upon which stood the coffee, the liqueur,
and the other things brought by Ouardi. It was evident even to the
self-centred priest that his host was not listening to him. There was a
moment's awkward pause. Then Domini said:

"Boris, Monsieur l'Aumonier!"

She did not speak loudly, but with an intention that recalled the mind
of her husband. He stepped slowly into the tent and held out his hand in
silence to the priest. As he did so the lamplight fell full upon him.

"Boris, are you ill?" Domini exclaimed.

The priest had taken Androvsky's hand, but with a doubtful air. His
cheerful and confident manner had died away, and his eyes, fixed upon
his host, shone with an astonishment which was mingled with a sort
of boyish glumness. It was evident that he felt that his presence was
unwelcome.

"I have a headache," Androvsky said. "I--that is why I returned."

He dropped the priest's hand. He was again looking towards the table.

"The sun was unusually fierce to-day," Domini said. "Do you think--"

"Yes, yes," he interrupted. "That's it. I must have had a touch of the
sun."

He put his hand to his head.

"Excuse me, Monsieur," he said, speaking to the priest but not looking
at him. "I am really feeling unwell. Another day--"

He went out of the tent and disappeared silently into the darkness.
Domini and the priest looked after him. Then the priest, with an air of
embarrassment, took up his hat from the table. His cigar had gone out,
but he pulled at it as if he thought it was still alight, then took it
out of his mouth a