llage of tents, black
and brown, lying closely together, as a fleet of dark fishing-boats lie
in the water. There were many little tents, very flat and low, crouched
around one which even at a distance was conspicuous for its enormous
size. It looked like a squatting giant among an army of pigmies; and the
level light of late afternoon gave extraordinary value to its colours,
which were brighter and newer than those of the lesser tents. As their
swaying carriage brought the travellers nearer, Victoria could see deep
red and brown stripes, separated by narrow bands of white. For
background, there was a knot of trees; for they had come south of El
Aghouat to the strange region of dayas, where the stony desolation is
broken by little emerald hollows, running with water, like big round
bowls stuck full of delicate greenery and blossoms.

Suddenly, as Victoria looked, figures began running about, and almost
before she had time to speak, ten or a dozen men in white, mounted on
horses, came speeding across the desert.

A stain of red showed in Maieddine's cheeks, and his eyes lighted up.
"They have been watching, expecting us," he said. "Now my father is
sending men to bid us welcome."

"Perhaps he is coming himself," said Victoria, for there was one figure
riding in the centre which seemed to her more splendidly dignified than
the others, though all were magnificent horsemen.

"No. It would not be right that the Agha himself should come to meet his
son," Maieddine explained. "Besides he would be wearing a scarlet
burnous, embroidered with gold. He does me enough honour in sending out
the pick of his goum, which is among the finest of the Sahara."

Victoria had picked up a great deal of desert lore by this time, and
knew that the "pick of the goum" would mean the best horses in the
Agha's stables, the crack riders among his trained men--fighting men,
such as he would give to the Government, if Arab soldiers were needed.

The dozen cavaliers swept over the desert, making the sand fly up under
the horses' hoofs in a yellow spray; and nearing the carriage they
spread themselves in a semi-circle, the man Victoria had mistaken for
the Agha riding forward to speak to Maieddine.

"It is my brother-in-law, Abderrhaman ben Douadi," exclaimed Maieddine,
waving his hand.

M'Barka pulled her veil closer, and because she did so, Victoria hid her
face also, rather than shock the Arab woman's prejudices.

At a word from his master,