er. You're a she-devil and capable of anything."

"Speak to her at the door thyself, if thou art afraid my breath will
wither thy frail flower," Ahmara sneered. "Tell her to escape quickly
into the shadows of the oasis, for the master will not care to lose his
dignity in hunting her. As for thee, thou canst run to guard her from
harm, as thou hast done before when she wandered, and I will carry word
to the Chief that the White Moon refuses to shine for him. In ten
minutes he will set out to fetch her, according to his word; but when he
finds her tent empty he will return to his own with Ahmara, I promise
thee, to plan some way of punishment. Shelter thy flower from that also
if thou canst, for it may not be to my interest to counsel thee then, as
it is now."

Max turned from the dancer without replying, and she hovered near while
he spoke at the door of Sanda's tent, within which the light had now
gone out.

"Mrs. Stanton!" he called in a low voice. "Mrs. Stanton!"

Sanda did not answer; and he called for the third time, raising his
voice slightly, yet not enough for Stanton to hear at his distance.

Still all was silence inside the tent, though it was not five minutes
since the light had been extinguished, and Sanda could hardly have
fallen asleep. Could she have heard what he and Ahmara were saying? He
wondered. It was just possible, for he had stepped close to the tent in
barring the dancer away from it. If Sanda had heard hurrying footsteps
and voices she might have peeped through the canvas flaps; and having
made an aperture, it would have been easy to catch a few words of
Ahmara's excited whispers.

"Perhaps she took the hint and has gone," Max thought; and an instant
later assured himself that she had done so, for the pegs at the back of
the tent had been pulled out of the sand. The bird had flown, but Max
feared that it might only be from one danger to another. In spite of the
friendly reception given to the caravan at Dardai, a young woman
straying from camp into the oasis would not be safe for an instant if
seen; and in the desert beyond Sanda might be terrified by jackals or
hyenas. Bending down Max saw, among the larger tracks made by himself
and the men who had helped him pitch the tent, small footprints in the
sand: marks of little shoes which could have been worn by nobody but
Sanda. The toes had pressed in deeply, while the heelprints were
invisible after the first three or four. As soon as she was