.

"'The horses won't be sufficiently rested,' he said curtly.

"'Oh yes; I fancy they will.'

"'Well, I don't fancy I shall. The long ride took it out of me.'

"'Turn in to-night, then, directly after dinner.'

"He looked at me with sharp suspicion. I met his gaze blandly.

"'I mean to,' he said after a short pause.

"I knew he was telling me a lie, but I only said: 'That's right!' and
resolved to keep an eye on him.

"Directly dinner was over he sprang up from the table.

"'Good-night,' he said.

"And before I could reply he was out of the _salle-a-manger_, and I
heard him tramp along the brick floor of the passage, go into his room,
and bang the door.

"The aumonier was getting up from his little table, and shaking the
crumbs from his soutane.

"'You are quite right, monsieur,' I said to him. 'I must get my friend
away.'

"'I shall be sorry to lose you,' replied the good priest. 'But--desert
air, desert air!'

"He shook his head, half wistfully, half laughingly, bowed, put on his
broad-brimmed black hat, and went out.

"After a moment I followed him. I stood in the doorway of the inn, and
lit a cigar. I knew Marnier was not going to bed, and meant to catch him
when he came out, and join him. In common politeness he could scarcely
refuse my company, since he had asked me as a favour to let him come
with me to Beni-Kouidar. I waited, watching the moon rise, till my cigar
was smoked out. Then I lit another. Still he did not come. I heard the
distant throb of tomtoms beyond the Bureau Arabe in the quarter of the
freed negroes. They were having a fantasia. I began to think that I must
have been mistaken, and that Marnier had really turned in. So much the
better. The ash dropped from the stump of my second cigar, and the
deserted camel market was flooded with silver from the moon-rays. I knew
there was only one door to the inn. Slowly I lit a third cigar.

"A large cloud went over the face of the moon. A gust of wind struck my
face. Suddenly the night had changed. The moon looked forth again, and
was again obscured. A second gust struck me like a blow, and my face
was stung by a multitude of sand grains. I heard steps behind me in the
brick passage, turned swiftly, and saw the landlord.

"'I must shut the door, m'sieu,' he said. 'There's a bad sandstorm
coming up.'

"As he spoke the wind roared, and over the camel market a thick fog
seemed to fall abruptly. It was a sheet of sand from the surrounding