pigeon's eggs, crawled out from cracks between wall
and floor, stumbling awkwardly about, and falling over each other. It
was a disgusting sight, and did not increase the visitors' desire to
accept the Caid's hospitality for any length of time. It may be that he
had thought of this. But even if he had, the servants were genuinely
enthusiastic in their efforts to make the Roumis at home. The two who
had run farthest returned soonest. They staggered under a load of large
rugs wrapped in unbleached sheeting, and a great sack stuffed full of
cushions which bulged out at the top. The sheeting they unfastened,
and, taking no notice of the beetles, hurriedly spread on the rough
floor several beautifully woven rugs of bright colours. Then, having
laid four or five on top of one another, they clawed the cushions out of
the sack, and placed them as if on a bed.

Hardly had they finished, when the first servant who had disappeared
came back, carrying over his arm a folding table, and dishes in his
hands. The only furniture already in the tower consisted of two long,
low wooden benches without backs; and as the servant from the house set
up the folding table, he who had opened the windows placed the benches,
one on either side. At the same moment, through the open door, a man
could be seen running with a live lamb flung over his shoulder.

"Good heavens, what is he going to do with that?" Stephen asked,
stricken with a presentiment.

"I'm afraid," Nevill answered quickly in English, "that it's going to be
killed for our entertainment." His pink colour faded, and in Arabic he
begged the Caid to give orders that, if the lamb were for them, its life
be spared, as they were under a vow never to touch meat. This was the
first excuse he could think of; and when, to his joy, a message was sent
after the slayer of innocence, he added that, very unfortunately, they
had a pressing engagement which would tear them away from the Caid's
delightful house all too soon.

Perhaps the Caid's face expressed no oppressive regret, yet he said
kindly that he hoped to keep his guests at least until next morning. In
the cool of the day they would see the cemetery; they would return, and
eat the evening meal. It would then be time to sleep. And with a gesture
he indicated the rugs and cushions, under which the beetles were now
buried like mountain-dwellers beneath an avalanche.

Nevill, still pale, thanked his host earnestly, complimented the rugs,
an