I suppose you'll tell
me."

"Rather. But no time now. We mustn't lose sight of him if we can help
it. I wanted to follow him up, on the instant, but didn't dare, for I
hoped he'd think I hadn't spotted him. He can't be sure, anyhow, for I
had the presence of mind not to stare. Let's go up now. He was on his
way to pay his respects to the Governor, I suppose. He can't have
slipped away yet."

"It would seem not," Nevill assented, thoughtfully.

But a few minutes later, it seemed that he had. And Nevill was not
surprised, for in the last nine years he had learned never to wonder at
the quick-witted diplomacy of Arabs. Si Maieddine had made short work
of his compliments to the Governor, and had passed out of sight by the
time that Stephen Knight and Nevill Caird escaped from the line of
Europeans and gorgeous Arabs pressing towards their host. It was not
certain, however, that he had left the palace. His haste to get on might
be only a coincidence, Nevill pointed out. "Frenchified Arabs" like Si
Maieddine, he said, were passionately fond of dancing with European
women, and very likely Maieddine was anxious to secure a waltz with some
Frenchwomen of his acquaintance.

The two Englishmen went on as quickly as they could, without seeming to
hurry, and looked for Maieddine in the gaily decorated ball-room where a
great number of Europeans and a few Arabs were dancing. Maieddine would
have been easy to find there, for his high-held head in its white turban
must have towered above most other heads, even those of the tallest
French officers; but he was not to be seen, and Nevill guided Stephen
out of the ball-room into a great court decorated with palms and
banners, and jewelled with hundreds of coloured lights that turned the
fountain into a spouting rainbow.

Pretty women sat talking with officers in uniforms, and watching the
dancers as they strolled out arm in arm, to walk slowly round the
flower-decked fountain. Behind the chatting Europeans stood many Arab
chiefs of different degree, bach aghas, aghas, caids and adels, looking
on silently, or talking together in low voices; and compared with these
stately, dark men in their magnificent costumes blazing with jewels and
medals, the smartest French officers were reduced to insignificance.
There were many handsome men, but Si Maieddine was not among them.

"We've been told that he's _persona grata_ here," Nevill reminded
Stephen, "and there are lots of places where he m