ne, for tragedies of the harem are sacred. To
Mademoiselle DeLisle, however, her host could do nothing, except send
her with a safe escort out of his home. And that would be her one
desire.

At first it seemed to Sanda that she could not do what Ourieda asked.
With tears she said no, they must think of some other way. And the
Little Rose did not argue or plead. She answered only that she had
thought, and there was no other way but the one which Sanda had refused.
Then she was silent, and the light died out of her eyes, leaving them
dull, almost glazed, as if her soul, that had been gazing through the
windows, had gone to some dark sepulchre of hope.

It was because of this silence and this look that Sanda changed her
mind, after one day and night, all of which she spent--vainly--in trying
to find another plan. A letter did come from her father, as she and
Ourieda had hoped it might (Colonel DeLisle, while still at
Sidi-bel-Abbes, found time to scribble off a few lines to his girl for
each camel post that travelled through the dunes from Touggourt to
Djazerta), and in sickness of heart Sanda pretended that she was wanted
"at home." The Agha was grieved and astonished, but, great Arab
gentleman that he was, would have cut out his tongue rather than
question his guest when no information was volunteered. He asked only if
she had been in all ways kindly treated in his house; and when with
swimming eyes she answered "yes," it was enough. The caravan was
prepared to take her to Touggourt, where she would be met by her former
travelling companions, Captain Amaranthe and his wife; and the Agha
assured her that only the marriage--an event unlucky to
postpone--prevented him from sending his nephew as before, or going
himself as her escort.

The start was to be made very early in the morning, before dawn, in
order that the caravan might rest during the two hours of greatest heat
without shortening the day's march; and this was in the girl's favour.
Sanda had said farewell to Lella Mabrouka the night before, that the
lady need not wake before her usual hour: but not only did she wake; she
rose, very quietly, and saw Embarka tiptoeing along the balcony from
Sanda's room to Ourieda's with the new gandourah and extra thick veil
she herself had given the guest to travel in. When Embarka was out of
the way Lella Mabrouka, in her night robe, pattered softly to Sanda's
closed door and knocked. No answer. She peeped in and saw the room