himself. She had come to the
cafe with a purpose, and, as she forgot it, she carried it out. Never
before had Claude understood completely why she had gained her position
in London and Paris, realized fully her fascination. Her delightful
naturalness, her pleasure, her almost boyish gaiety, her simplicity, her
humor took him captive for the moment. She explained that she had left
her companions and stolen away to enjoy Constantine alone.

"And now I'm interrupting you. But you must forgive me just for this one
night!"

Through Amor, who acted as interpreter, she carried on a lively
intercourse with Said Hitani. The other musicians smiled, but seldom
spoke, and only among themselves. But Said Hitani, the great artist of
his native city, a man famous far and wide among the Arabs, was
infinitely diverting and descriptive in talk even as when he gave
himself to the flute. With an animation that was youthful he described
the meaning of each new song. He had two flutes on which he played
alternately--"Mousou et Madame," he called them. And he knew, so he
declared, over a hundred songs. Mrs. Shiffney, speaking to him always
through Amor, told him of London, and what a sensation he and his
companions would make there in the _decor_ of a Moorish cafe. Said
Hitani pulled his little gray beard with his delicate hands, swayed to
and fro, and smiled. Then sharply he uttered a torrent of words which
seemed almost to fight their way out of some chamber in his narrow
throat.

"Said Hitani says you have only to send money and the address and they
are all coming whenever you like. They are very pleased to come."

At this point one of the musicians, a fair man with pale eyes who played
the tarah, interposed a remark which was uttered with great seriousness.

"Can they go to London on camels, he wishes to know," observed Amor
gently.

Said Hitani waited for Mrs. Shiffney's answer with a slightly judicial
air, moving his head as if in approval of the tarah-player's
forethought.

"I'm afraid they can't."

The tarah-player spoke again.

"He says, can they go on donkeys?"

"No. It is further than Paris, tell him."

"Then they must go on the sea. Paris is across the sea."

"Yes, they will have to take a steamer."

At this juncture it was found that the tarah-player would not be of the
party.

"He says he would be very sick, and no man can play when he is sick."

"What will Madame pay?" interposed Said Hitani.

Mrs. Shiffne