lf-reliant and to trust to the moment for the
method.

When Androvsky returned to the camp it was towards evening. A lemon
light was falling over the great white spaces of the sand. Upon their
little round hills the Arab villages glowed mysteriously. Many horsemen
were riding forth from the city to take the cool of the approaching
night. From the desert the caravans were coming in. The nomad children
played, half-naked, at Cora before the tents, calling shrilly to each
other through the light silence that floated airily away into the vast
distances that breathed out the spirit of a pale eternity. Despite the
heat there was an almost wintry romance in this strange land of white
sands and yellow radiance, an ethereal melancholy that stole with the
twilight noiselessly towards the tents.

As Androvsky approached Domini saw that he had lost the energy which had
delighted her at _dejeuner_. He walked towards her slowly with his head
bent down. His face was grave, even sad, though when he saw her waiting
for him he smiled.

"You have been all this time with the priest?" she said.

"Nearly all. I walked for a little while in the city. And you?"

"I rode out and met a friend."

"A friend?" he said, as if startled.

"Yes, from Beni-Mora--Count Anteoni. He has been here to pay me a
visit."

She pulled forward a basket-chair for him. He sank into it heavily.

"Count Anteoni here!" he said slowly. "What is he doing here?"

"He is with the marabout at Beni-Hassan. And, Boris, he has become a
Mohammedan."

He lifted his head with a jerk and stared at her in silence.

"You are surprised?"

"A Mohammedan--Count Anteoni?"

"Yes. Do you know, when he told me I felt almost as if I had been
expecting it."

"But--is he changed then? Is he--"

He stopped. His voice had sounded to her bitter, almost fierce.

"Yes, Boris, he is changed. Have you ever seen anyone who was lost,
and the same person walking along the road home? Well, that is Count
Anteoni."

They said no more for some minutes. Androvsky was the first to speak
again.

"You told him?" he asked.

"About ourselves?"

"Yes."

"I told him."

"What did he say?"

"He had expected it. When we ask him he is coming here again to see us
both together."

Androvsky got up from his chair. His face was troubled. Standing before
Domini, he said:

"Count Anteoni is happy then, now that he--now that he has joined this
religion?"

"Very happy."

"And you--a C