the driver stopped his mules so quickly as to
bring them on their haunches, and Maieddine sprang out. He and his
brother-in-law, a stately dark man with a short black beard under an
eagle nose, exchanged courtesies which seemed elaborate to Victoria's
European ideas, and Si Abderrhaman did not glance at the half-lowered
curtains behind which the women sat.

The men talked for a few minutes; then Maieddine got into the carriage
again; and surrounded by the riders, it was driven rapidly towards the
tents, rocking wildly in the sand, because now it had left the desert
road and was making straight for the zmala.

The Arab men on their Arab horses shouted as they rode, as if giving a
signal; and from the tents, reddened now by the declining sun, came
suddenly a strange crying in women's voices, shrill yet sweet; a sound
that was half a chant, half an eerie yodeling, note after note of
"you-you!--you-you!" Out from behind the zeribas, rough hedges of dead
boughs and brambles which protected each low tent, burst a tidal wave of
children, some gay as little bright butterflies in gorgeous dresses,
others wrapped in brilliant rags. From under the tents women appeared,
unveiled, and beautiful in the sunset light, with their heavy looped
braids and their dangling, clanking silver jewellery. "You-you!
you-you!" they cried, dark eyes gleaming, white teeth flashing. It was
to be a festival for the douar, this fortunate evening of the son and
heir's arrival, with a great lady of his house, and her friend, a Roumia
girl. There was joy for everyone, for the Agha's relatives, and for each
man, woman and child in the zmala, mighty ones, or humble members of the
tribe, the Ouled-Serrin. There would be feasting, and after dark, to
give pleasure to the Roumia, the men would make the powder speak. It was
like a wedding; and best of all, an exciting rumour had gone round the
douar, concerning the foreign girl and the Agha's son, Si Maieddine.

The romance in Victoria's nature was stirred by her reception; by the
white-clad riders on their slender horses, and the wild "you-yous" of
the women and little girls. Maieddine saw her excitement and thrilled to
it. This was his great hour. All that had gone before had been leading
up to this day, and to the days to come, when they would be in the fiery
heart of the desert together, lost to all her friends whom he hated with
a jealous hatred. He helped M'Barka to descend from the carriage: then,
as sh