, with eyes
more mysterious than the eyes of veiled women; tall fellows wearing high
shoes of soft, pale brown leather made for walking long distances in
heavy sand; and Maieddine said that there was great traffic and commerce
between Djelfa and the M'Zab country, where she and he and M'Barka would
arrive presently, after passing his father's douar.

Maieddine was uneasy until they were out of Djelfa, for, though few
Europeans travelled that way, and the road is hideous for motors, still
it was not impossible that a certain yellow car had slipped in before
them, to lie in wait. The Caid's house, where they spent that night, was
outside the town, and behind its closed doors and little windows there
was no fear of intruders. It was good to be sure of shelter and security
under a friend's roof; and so far, in spite of the adventure at Ben
Sliman's, everything was going well enough. Only--Maieddine was a little
disappointed in Victoria's manner towards himself. She was sweet and
friendly, and grateful for all he did, but she did not seem interested
in him as a man. He felt that she was eager to get on, that she was
counting the days, not because of any pleasure they might bring in his
society, but to make them pass more quickly. Still, with the deep-rooted
patience of the Arab, he went on hoping. His father, Agha of the
Ouled-Serrin, reigned in the desert like a petty king. Maieddine thought
that the douar and the Agha's state must impress her; and the journey
on from there would be a splendid experience, different indeed from this
interminable jogging along, cramped up in a carriage, with M'Barka
sighing, or leaning a heavy head on the girl's shoulder. Out in the
open, Victoria in her bassour, he on the horse which he would take from
his father's goum, travelling would be pure joy. And Maieddine had been
saving up many surprises for that time, things he meant to do for the
girl, which must turn her heart towards him.

Beyond Djelfa, on the low mountains that alone broke the monotony
of the dismal plain, little watch-towers rose dark along the
sky-line--watch-towers old as Roman days. Sometimes the travellers met a
mounted man wearing a long, hooded cloak over his white burnous; a
cavalier of the Bureau Arabe, or native policeman on his beat, under the
authority of a civil organization more powerful in the Sahara than the
army. These men, riding alone, saluted Si Maieddine almost with
reverence, and Lella M'Barka told Vict