d the
superciliousness of their expressions amused her; the look they had of
elderly ladies, dissatisfied with every one but themselves, and
conscious of being supremely "well-connected." "A camel cannot see its
own hump, but it can see those of others," she had heard M'Barka say.

As Victoria stood alone in the dawn, laughing at the ghostly meharis,
and looking with interest at the heavily laden pack-camel and the mule
piled up with tents and mattresses, Maieddine came riding round from
behind the great tent, all in white, on a white stallion. Seeing the
girl, he tested her courage, and made a bid for her admiration by
reining El Biod in suddenly, making him stand erect on his hind feet,
pawing the air and dancing. But Roumia as she was, and unaccustomed to
such manoeuvres, she neither ran back nor screamed. She was not ashamed
to show her admiration of man and horse, and Maieddine did not know that
her thoughts were more of El Biod the white, "drinker of air," the
saddle of crimson velvet and tafilet leather embroidered in gold, and
the bridle from Figuig, encrusted with silver, than of the rider.

"This is the horse of whom I told thee," Maieddine said, letting El Biod
come down again on all four feet. "He was blessed as a foal by having
the magical words 'Bissem Allah' whispered over him as he drew the first
draught of his mother's milk. But thou wilt endow him with new gifts if
thou touchest his forehead with thy hand. Wilt thou do that, for his
sake, and for mine?"

Victoria patted the flesh-coloured star on the stallion's white face,
not knowing that, if a girl's fingers lie between the eyes of an Arab's
horse, it is as much as to say that she is ready to ride with him to the
world's end. But Maieddine knew, and the thought warmed his blood. He
was superstitious, like all Arabs, and he had wanted a sign of success.
Now he had it. He longed to kiss the little fingers as they rested on El
Biod's forehead, but he said to himself, "Patience; it will not be long
before I kiss her lips."

"El Biod is my citadel," he smiled to her. "Thou knowest we have the
same word for horse and citadel in Arabic? And that is because a brave
stallion is a warrior's citadel, built on the wind, a rampart between
him and the enemy. And we think the angels gave a horse the same heart
as a man, that he might be our friend as well as servant, and carry us
on his back to Paradise. Whether that is true or not, to-day El Biod and
I are alr