"The great marabout who lives at Beni-Hassan."

The name struck upon Domini's ear with a strange familiarity.

"But that's where Count Anteoni went when he rode away from Beni-Mora
that morning."

"Yes, Madame."

"Is it far from Amara?"

"Two hours' ride across the desert."

"But then Count Anteoni may be near us. After he left he wrote to me and
gave me his address at the marabout's house."

"If he is still with the marabout, Madame."

They were close to the fountain now, and the marabout and his companion
were coming straight towards them.

"If Madame will allow me I will salute the marabout," said Batouch.

"Certainly."

He sprang off his horse immediately, tied it up to the railing of the
fountain, and went respectfully towards the approaching potentate to
kiss his hand. Domini saw the marabout stop and Batouch bend down, then
lift himself up and suddenly move back as if in surprise. The Arab who
was with the marabout seemed also surprised. He held out his hand to
Batouch, who took it, kissed it, then kissed his own hand, and turning,
pointed towards Domini. The Arab spoke a word to the marabout, then left
him, and came rapidly forward to the fountain. As he drew close to her
she saw a face browned by the sun, a very small, pointed beard, a pair
of intensely bright eyes surrounded by wrinkles. These eyes held her.
It seemed to her that she knew them, that she had often looked into them
and seen their changing expressions. Suddenly she exclaimed:

"Count Anteoni!"

"Yes, it is I!"

He held out his hand and clasped hers.

"So you have started upon your desert journey," he added, looking
closely at her, as he had often looked in the garden.

"Yes."

"And as I ventured to advise--that last time, do you remember?"

She recollected his words.

"No," she replied, and there was a warmth of joy, almost of pride, in
her voice. "I am not alone."

Count Anteoni was standing with one hand on her horse's neck. As she
spoke, his hand dropped down.

"I have been away from Beni-Hassan," he said slowly. "The marabout and
I have been travelling in the south and only returned yesterday. I have
heard no news for a long time from Beni-Mora, but I know. You are Madame
Androvsky."

"Yes," she answered; "I am Madame Androvsky."

There was a silence between them. In it she heard the dripping water in
the fountain. At last Count Anteoni spoke again.

"It was written," he said quietly. "It was written in the