spirit of the East--was in essence truly the East.

Before the ship lay fairly in harbour, brown men had climbed on board
from little boats, demanding to be given charge of the passengers' small
luggage, which the stewards had brought on deck, and while one of these
was arguing in bad French with Stephen, a tall, dark youth beautifully
dressed in crimson and white, wearing a fez jauntily on one side,
stepped up with a smile. "_Pardon, monsieur_," he ventured. "_Je suis le
domestique de Monsieur Caird._" And then, in richly guttural accents, he
offered the information that he was charged to look after monsieur's
baggage; that it was best to avoid _tous ces Arabes la_, and that
Monsieur Caird impatiently awaited his friend on the wharf.

"But you--aren't you Arab?" asked Stephen, who knew no subtle
differences between those who wore the turban or fez. He saw that the
good-looking, merry-faced boy was no browner than many a Frenchman of
the south, and that his eyes were hazel; still, he did not know what he
might be, if not Arab.

"_Je suis Kabyle, monsieur; Kabyle des hauts plateaux_," replied the
youth with pride, and a look of contempt at the shouting porters, which
was returned with interest. They darted glances of scorn at his
gold-braided vest and jacket of crimson cloth, his light blue sash, and
his enormously full white trousers, beneath which showed a strip of pale
golden leg above the short white stockings, spurning the immaculate
smartness of his livery, preferring, or pretending to prefer, their own
soiled shabbiness and freedom. The Kabyle saw these glances, but,
completely satisfied with himself, evidently attributed them to envy.

Stephen turned towards Victoria, of whom he had lost sight for a moment.
He wished to offer the Kabyle boy's services, but already she had
accepted those of a very old Arab who looked thin and ostentatiously
pathetic. It was too late now. He saw by her face that she would refuse
help, rather than hurt the man's feelings. But she had told him the name
of the hotel where she had telegraphed to engage a room, and Stephen
meant at the instant of greeting his host, to ask if it were suitable
for a young girl travelling alone.

He caught sight of Caird, looking up and waiting for him, before he was
able to land. It was the face he remembered; boyish, with beautiful
bright eyes, a wide forehead, and curly light hair. The expression was
more mature, but the same quaintly angelic look