He was not playing. She believed that there was
sincerity in his eyes.
The next morning, when Victoria called at the Governor's palace, and
heard that Captain Cassim ben Halim was supposed to have died in
Constantinople, years ago, she was not cast down. "I know Si Maieddine
doesn't think he's dead," she told herself.
There was a note for her at the hotel, and though the writer had
addressed the envelope to "Mademoiselle Ray," in an educated French
handwriting, the letter inside was written in beautiful Arab lettering,
an intentionally flattering tribute to her accomplishment.
Si Maieddine informed her that his hope had been justified, and that in
conversation with his cousin his own surmises had been confirmed. A
certain plan was suggested, which he wished to propose to Mademoiselle
Ray, but as it would need some discussion, there was not time to bring
it forward before the hour when she must go out to keep her engagement.
On her return, however, he begged that she would see him, in the salon
of Madame Constant, where she would find him waiting. Meanwhile, he
ventured to remind her that for the present, secrecy was even more
necessary than he had at first supposed; he would be able to explain
why, fully and satisfactorily, when they met in the afternoon.
With this appointment to look forward to, it was natural that Victoria
should excuse herself to Lady MacGregor earlier than most people cared
to leave Djenan el Djouad.
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