“We know nothing here in this uncivilised oven,” the officer said, laughing, and at the same time flicking some dust from off his braided coat-sleeve. “The Paris papers are always a fortnight to three weeks old, and, there being no postal service, I have to send to Biskra for them.”
“But you have very comfortable quarters here,” I said.
“Comfortable! Oh yes,” he replied; “but the life is abominably monotonous. I would rather be in command of an advanced post down in the south. There one leads a wild, free life and has plenty of enjoyment. Take Deschanel’s squadron of Spahis as an instance. You have already had some experience with them, so I need not describe the rollicking life they lead, scouring the plains in search of that daring old pirate, Hadj Absalam.”
“Have you heard anything of the old chieftain lately?” I asked eagerly.
“No. Since the sharp brush with Deschanel’s detachment he seems to have mysteriously disappeared. After the defeat of his band we did our best to capture him, feeling that with his power broken he would fall an easy prey. I at once organised detachments of Spahis, Chasseurs, and Turcos, who for nearly a month patrolled the Desert, made inquiries of all the neighbouring tribes, and did their utmost to discover the direction in which the fugitive had gone. But, as usual, all was in vain.”
“Then he has again escaped you?”
Carmier nodded, blowing a cloud of smoke upward from his lips. “He seems to move from one place to another imperceptibly, for when he flies he leaves not a clue by which he can be traced. Only last week the Sheikh of the Ourlana, who had just returned from Algiers, told me positively that he saw him, dressed as a Jew merchant, enjoying himself at one of the cafés on the Boulevard de la République. That, of course, is un conte en l’air. The old rascal may be daring, but he would never risk arrest by going to Algiers.”
I remained silent. Was it not most likely that while Zoraida sojourned beside the sea, the Pirate of the Desert would be there also? I did not, however, tell him of my enchantress, but agreed with him that such an assertion was incredible. When presently my friend had invited me to remain with him a couple of days, and I had accepted, he suddenly asked me—
“Where are you going when you leave here?”
“To Agadez.”