And they shook hands, with a certain frigidity on the part of the two girls.
During the morning, M. Sylvain made no sign, and Cecil lunched in solitude at the Dar Eef, adjoining the Casino. The races being over, streams of natives, with their tents and their quadrupeds, were leaving Biskra for the desert; they made an interminable procession which could be seen from the window of the Dar Eef coffee room. Cecil was idly watching this procession, when a hand touched his shoulder. He turned and saw a gendarme.
“Monsieur Collang?” questioned the gendarme.
Cecil assented.
“Voulez-vous avoir l’obligeance de me suivre, monsieur?”
Cecil obediently followed, and found in the street M. Sylvain well wrapped up, and seated in an open carriage.
“I have need of you,” said M. Sylvain. “Can you come at once?”
“Certainly.”
In two minutes they were driving away together into the desert.
“Our destination is Sidi Okba,” said M. Sylvain. “A curious place.”