ould question her about what she knew of
Ourieda's secrets, and though she resolved that nothing should make her
speak, her heart seemed turning to water.

CHAPTER XX

THE BEAUTY DOCTOR

"If my father were only here!" Sanda said as she went down to the great
room of state where the ladies of the Agha's harem received their few
visitors. And then she thought of Maxime St. George, her soldier. She
recalled the night when she had been afraid of the storm, and he had sat
by her through the long hours. Somehow, she did not know why, it helped
a little to remember that.

Ben Raana, graver and sterner than she had seen him, was waiting in the
early dawn which struck out bleak lights from the dangling prisms of the
big French chandeliers--the ugly chandeliers of which Lella Mabrouka was
proud. He asked no questions; and somehow that seemed worse than the
ordeal for which Sanda had braced herself. The Agha's voice, politely
speaking French, was studiously gentle, but icy contempt was in his dark
eyes when they were not deliberately turned from the trusted guest who
had betrayed him. He said he had summoned her to announce, with regret,
that, owing to the illness of the man appointed as conductor of the
caravan, it would not be able to start for some time. At present there
was no other person equally trustworthy who could be spared. "I am
responsible to thy father for thy safety," he added. "And though we poor
Arabs are behind these modern times in many ways, we would die rather
than betray a trust."

That was a stroke well aimed under the roses of courtesy, and Sanda
could but receive it in silence. She had supposed when Lella Mabrouka
spoke of the caravan not going that it was only a threat. Her
expectation was to be sent out of the house at once, in disgrace, and
though her soul yearned over Ourieda, all that was timid in her pined to
go. It was surprising--if anything could surprise her then--to hear that
she must remain.

"Almost surely I shan't be allowed to see Ourieda again, and if I can't
help her any more I might as well beg father to send for me at once,"
she told herself, when Ben Raana, formally taking leave of her, with
hand on forehead and heart, had gone. She went slowly and miserably to
her own room to await developments, and while she waited, hastily wrote
the message to Colonel DeLisle which three days later found him at
Touggourt.

In writing, she feared that her letter might never be allowed