"I repeat it, Bardissi, wait. In eight days you shall have an answer from me. Perhaps it will, be communicated to you through common report—perhaps secretly. Therefore, name some one through whom I can communicate with you."
Bardissi made no answer, but glanced uneasily at Mohammed. The latter smiled.
"You are suspicious; you have already experienced too much treachery from your enemies not to fear Mohammed Ali might prove like the rest. I require no answer. In case of necessity, I will send you an answer through Mourad's widow, Sitta Nefysseh."
"Sbe is our mistress, and we all reverence and obey her as we should, the widow of our great chieftain."
"I know you all honor and love her!" said Mohammed, with a slight smile. "May I now depart?"
Bardissi inclined his head. "You are free! I shall ride on in advance, and deprive myself of the pleasure of accompanying you through the desert. We might be seen together, and suspicion excited against you. I ride in that direction. The dromedary will bear you back to your camp by a shorter route across the desert. She who brought you here will also accompany you back. She knows the way, and is discreet and cautious, like her father. My horse and servants await me behind that hill. And now let us part!"
"Let us part!" repeated Mohammed, extending his hand for a parting grasp.
"I will accompany you to the tent," said Bardissi," and give orders to have the dromedary saddled for you while you are strengthening yourself for the ride."
They walked to the tent side by side, and Bardissi called the sheik, and gave him his instructions.
Mohammed entered the tent. No one was there. He walked into the inner apartment, and so noiselessly that his step was not heard by her who stood behind the partition, by Butheita. She stood there, her head bowed down, and her gaze fixed on the spot where she had broken bread with Mohammed. Now, hearing her name murmured behind her, she started and turned around. He observed that her manner was sad, and that the smile had departed from her lips.