-thou seest between him and thee a
barrier, high and fearful as a wall with sharp knives on top. For thine
eyes it is impassable. Thine heart is sad; and thy words to him will
pierce his soul with despair. But think again. Be true to thyself and to
thy star. Speak another word, and throw down that high barrier, as the
wall of Jericho was thrown down. Thou canst do it. All will depend on
the decision of a moment--thy whole future, the future of the man, and
of a woman whose face I cannot see."

M'Barka smoothed away the tracings in the sand.

"What--is there no more?" asked Maieddine.

"No, it is dark before my eyes now. The light has gone from the sand. I
can still tell her a few little things, perhaps. Such things as the
luckiest colours to wear, the best days to choose for journeys. But she
is different from most girls. I do not think she would care for such
hints."

"All colours are lucky. All days are good," said Victoria. "I thank thee
for what thou hast told me, Lella M'Barka."

She did not wish to hear more. What she had heard was more than enough.
Not that she really believed that M'Barka could see into the future; but
because of the "dark man." Any fortune-teller might introduce a dark man
into the picture of a fair girl's destiny; but the allusions were so
marked that Victoria's vague unrestfulness became distress. She tried to
encourage herself by thinking of Maieddine's dignified attitude, from
the beginning of their acquaintance until now. And even now, he had
changed only a little. He was too complimentary, that was all; and the
difference in his manner might arise from knowing her more intimately.
Probably Lella M'Barka, like many elderly women of other and newer
civilizations, was over-romantic; and the best thing was to prevent her
from putting ridiculous ideas into Maieddine's head. Such ideas would
spoil the rest of the journey for both.

"Remember all I have told thee, when the time comes," M'Barka warned
her.

"Yes--oh yes, I will remember."

"Now it is my turn. Read the sand for me," said Maieddine.

M'Barka made as if she would wrap the sand in its bag. "I can tell thy
future better another time. Not now. It would not be wise. Besides, I
have done enough. I am tired."

"Look but a little way along the future, then, and say what thou seest.
I feel that it will bring good fortune to touch the sand where the hand
of Ourieda has touched it."

Always now, he spoke of Victoria, or to her,