fterwards, and her husband killed himself. Ben Halim had not
been considered a good officer before. He was too fond of pleasure, and
a mad gambler; so at last it was made known to him he had better leave
the army of his own accord if he did not wish to go against his will; at
least, that was the story."

"Of course!" exclaimed Nevill. "It comes back to me now, though it all
happened before I lived in Algiers. Ben Halim sold his house and
everything in it to a Frenchman who went bankrupt soon after. It's
passed through several hands since. I go occasionally to call on Mrs.
Jewett and her daughter."

"It is said they wish you would call oftener, Monsieur Caird."

Nevill turned red. Stephen thought he could understand, and hid a smile.
No doubt Nevill was a great "catch" in Algerian society. And he was in
love with a teacher of Arab children far away in Tlemcen, a girl "poor
as a church mouse," who wouldn't listen to him! It was a quaint world;
as quaint in Africa as elsewhere.

"What did you tell Miss Ray?" Nevill hurried to ask.

"That Ben Halim had left Algiers nine years ago, and had never been
heard of since. When I saw she did not love his memory, I told her
people believed him to be dead; and this rumour might be true, as no
news of him has ever come back. But she turned pale, and I was sorry I
had been so frank. Yet what would you? Oh, and I thought of one more
thing, when she had gone, which I might have mentioned. But perhaps
there is nothing in it. All the rest of the day I was busy with many
customers, so I was tired at night, otherwise I would have sent a note
to her hotel. And this morning since six I have been hurrying to get off
boxes and things ordered by some Americans for a ship which sails at
noon. But you will tell the young lady when you see her, and that will
be better than my writing, because sending a note would make it seem too
important. She might build hopes, and it would be a pity if they did
explode."

Both men laughed a little at this ending of the Frenchwoman's sentence,
but Stephen was more impatient than Nevill to know what was to come
next. He grudged the pause, and made her go on.

"It is only that I remember my sister telling me, when she was at home
last year for a holiday, about a Kabyle servant girl who waits on her in
Tlemcen. The girl is of a great intelligence, and my sister takes an
interest in her. Josette teaches her many things, and they talk.
Mouni--that is the Kabyle