European, so cold as not to fall in
love with Victoria at first sight, he hoped that Knight was blind enough
not to appreciate her, or that his affections were otherwise engaged.
After all, the two had been strangers when they came on the boat, or had
met only once before, therefore the Englishman had no right to take
steps unauthorized by the girl. Altogether, Maieddine thought he had
reason to be satisfied with the present, and to hope in the future.

XXI

Stephen and Nevill Caird returned from Tlemcen to Algiers, hoping for
news of Victoria, but there was none; and after two days they left for
Grand Kabylia.

The prophetic birds at Mansourah had flown in a south-easterly
direction, but when Stephen and Nevill started in search of Josette's
maid Mouni, they turned full east, their faces looking towards the dark
heights of Kabylia. It was not Victoria they hoped to find there,
however, or Saidee her sister, but only a hint as to their next move.
Nevertheless, Nevill was superstitious about the birds, and said to
Stephen when the car had run them out of Algiers, past Maison Carre,
into open country: "Isn't it queer how the birds follow us? I never saw
so many before. They're always with us. It's just as if they'd passed on
word, the way chupatties are passed on in India, eh? Or maybe Josette
has told her protegees to look after us."

And Stephen smiled, for Nevill's superstitions were engaging, rather
than repulsive; and his quaintnesses were endearing him more and more to
the man who had just taken up the dropped thread of friendship after
eight or nine years. What an odd fellow Nevill was! Stephen thought,
indulgently. No wonder he was worshipped by his servants, and even his
chauffeur. No wonder Lady MacGregor adored her nephew, though treating
him as if he were a little boy!

One of Nevill's idiosyncrasies, after arranging everything to fit a
certain plan, was to rush off at the last minute and do something
entirely different. Last night--the night before starting for Grand
Kabylia--he had begged Stephen to be ready by eight, at which time the
car was ordered. At nine--having sat up till three o'clock writing
letters, and then having visited a lately imported gazelle in its
quarters--Nevill was still in his bath. At length he arrived on the
scene, beaming, with a sulky chameleon in his pocket, and flew about
giving last directions, until he suddenly discovered that there was a
violent hurry, whereupon