ing on to Oran, and take a slow one, on a branch line. It
was a very slow one, indeed, and it was also late, so that it would be
nearly midday and the hour for _dejeuner_ when they reached their
destination. Max saw himself inquiring for Mademoiselle Delatour just at
the moment when the admirers of her topaz eyes were assembling for
their meal. He did not like the prospect; but said nothing of his own
worries to Sanda, whom he joined on changing trains. Now the meeting
with her father was so near, she had to hold her courage with both
hands. She had realized for the first time that she would not know where
to look for Colonel DeLisle. He might be in barracks. She could hardly
go to him there. He would perhaps be angry, should a girl arrive,
announcing herself as his daughter, at the house where he had rooms. The
third alternative was the Hotel Splendide, where he took his meals. He
might already be there when she reached Sidi-bel-Abbes. What a place for
a first meeting! Max agreed, sympathetically. It seemed that everything
at Sidi-bel-Abbes must happen at the Hotel Splendide!

"If you could only be with me and help, as you have helped me all
along!" she sighed. "Though of course you can't. If Sir Knight had
come---- But I couldn't easily explain _you_ to my father. At least, not
just at present."

Max saw this, even more clearly than she saw it. It would indeed be
difficult for a strange new daughter to explain in a few brief words a
still more strange young man to such a person as Colonel DeLisle. If he
were to be introduced or even mentioned at all, Max felt that it would
have to be later, and must depend on the word of the redoubtable
colonel. He suggested to Sanda as discreetly as he could that he would
keep out of her way at the hotel, unless she summoned him. But, he
added, he would have to be there for a short time at all events, because
his business was taking him precisely to the Hotel Splendide.

"The person you're looking for is staying there?" asked Sanda.

"She's the secretary of the hotel." Max hesitated an instant, then,
realizing from the words he had overheard how conspicuous a character
Josephine Delatour evidently was, he thought best to tell Sanda
something more of his story than he had told her yet. He sketched the
version, vindicating his foster-mother, which he had given to Billie
Brookton and the Reeveses--a version which all the world at home would,
he believed, soon hear.

"So that is it?