CHAPTER IX.
NEWS FROM COLORADO.
Wycherley is right; Aleck has recognized the cloaked figure. There is some undefinable quality about her carriage that betrays her—a gliding movement, so totally unlike the action of an American. What adds power to the suspicion is the fact that she seems to follow the couple whose movements Aleck and his companion have been watching.
“I feel as though some sort of crisis were approaching, Claude. Now do you suppose she suspects what manner of face that veil hides?” he asks his friend.
“Oh, as to that, Dorothy has thrown back the veil impatiently a dozen times in order to look at some curio, but, being bothered with the bold glances her beauty draws from some of the visitors here, lets it drop again. If this be Marda, as you seem to imagine, depend on it, she has seen the girl’s face.”
“What will she do?”
“Ah! there I must confess my weakness. We might consult the black Nubian who holds forth in that sacred chamber of the mosque.”
“To the deuce with him and his folly. I imagine we can get a better answer by watching these people, though, in one way, it goes against my grain to play the detective.”
“Bah! you’re too conscientious. Remember, we are not mere curiosity mongers, nor reporters seeking a sensation, but sworn protectors to this lovely Hebe, who lacks a brother’s care. Under such circumstances, Aleck, anything is fair in love or war.”
“Be it so. I must accept your version, and stifle my dislike to the task by remembering the demands of duty.”