“Do you think they liked me? I wonder if there was a snake-charmer among them. When I came to Sidi Mahomet I thought perhaps they would kill me. That thought made me pray better than I can in London.”
“You could charm snakes more certainly than any Arab,” Renfrew said.
“I daresay. Perhaps I shall try at Tetuan. Good-night, Desmond.”
She vanished into the tent. It seemed that she evaporated as Sarah Bernhardt evaporates in the fourth act of “La Tosca.”
II
On the following day they rode across the mountain to Tetuan. They started in the dawn. Claire's eyes were heavy. She came languidly out from the tent door to mount her horse, and when she touched Renfrew he felt that her hand was cold like an icicle. He looked at her anxiously.
“Are you ill?” he asked.
“No, Desmond.”
He lifted her into the saddle.