"She's left her
hotel in Algiers in a mysterious way, not telling where she meant to go,
although she assured us she'd be safe, and we needn't worry. However,
naturally we do worry."
"But of course. I see how it is." The dimples were gone, and the
brightness of Josette's eyes was overcast. She looked at Nevill
wistfully, and a flash of sympathetic understanding enlightened Stephen.
No doubt she was generously solicitous for the fate of Victoria Ray, but
there was something different from solicitude in her darkening eyes.
"Good! she's jealous. She thinks Nevill's heart's been caught in the
rebound," he told himself. But Nevill remained modestly unconscious.
"Miss Ray may arrive yet," he suggested. "We'd better stop to-day,
anyhow, on the chance; don't you think so, Stephen? and then, if there's
no news of her when we get back to Algiers, go on to interview the bride
in Grand Kabylia?"
Stephen had not the heart to dispute the wisdom of this decision, though
he was sure that, since Victoria was not in Tlemcen now, she would never
come.
"So you think we've made a long journey for nothing, Mademoiselle
Josette?" said Nevill.
"But yes. So it turns out."
"Seeing an old friend doesn't count, then?"
"Oh, well, that can seem but little--in comparison to what you hoped.
Still, you can show Monsieur Knight the sights. He may not guess how
beautiful they are. Have you told him there are things here as wonderful
as in the Alhambra itself, things made by the Moors who were in
Granada?"
"I've told him about all I care most for in Tlemcen," returned Nevill,
with that boyish demureness he affected sometimes.
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