with black eyes and
moustache, slightly-hooked nose and light, graceful bearing, he might
have belonged to any of the southern nations. He was certainly no
Englishman. "Ho-e-la! Ho-e-la!" How the fever of hate was kindled in
Reist's heart as the echoes of that cry rang through the room. His
memory, too, was swift and vivid. No longer he sat in that bare attic
watching the flying figures of the Badminton players and listening to
their cheerful badinage. Walls enclosed him no more. He saw out over
the sea and land, he saw things the memory of which still thrilled his
pulses, tugged at his heart-strings. Over the snow-capped hills he
rode, wrapped in military furs, his sabre clanking by his side and a
storm of stinging sleet driven into his face. Below were lights
flashing in a white wilderness--amongst the hills flared the red fire
of the guns, the music of their thunders was even then upon his ears.
Down the steep defile he rode at the head of his troop, the sound of
their approach muffled by the deep snow--afterwards the roar of
meeting, the breathless excitement of the charge, the deep battle-cry
of the men of Theos and from those others--ah, he had it now.

"Ho-e-la! Ho-e-la! Allah! Allah!"

A cry of triumph. The game was over. Sara Van Decht threw herself into
a chair between her father and him and fanned herself vigorously with
a pocket-handkerchief. The others were laughing and talking amongst
themselves. Erlito came over at once to her side.

"Miss Van Decht," he cried, gaily, "we are invincible. You played
magnificently. Reist, we are going to have some tea, and then I shall
be at your service. Why, our tussle seems to have interested you."

Reist withdrew his eyes reluctantly from watching Hassen. He smiled
faintly.

"Yes," he said. "New things are always interesting! New things--and
old friends!"

CHAPTER IV

Afternoon tea was brought in by an elderly man-servant in plain
livery, and was probably the most unconventional meal which Reist had
ever shared. They sat about promiscuously upon chairs and overturned
boxes, and there was a good deal of lively conversation. Brand was a
newspaper man, who had served as war correspondent with Erlito in the
Egyptian campaign, Mr. Van Decht and his daughter were rich Americans,
loitering about Europe. Hassen remained silent, and of him Reist
learned nothing further. The little which he knew sufficed.

Brand came over and sat by Reist's side. He was a tall,