"Whereabouts was this farmhouse?" he asked. "Can't you tell us how to
find it?"
Mouni searched her memory. "I was not yet thirteen," she said. "It is
nine years since I left that place; and I travelled in a shut-up
carriage, with a cousin, older than I, who had been already in the house
of the lady when I came. She told her mistress of me, and I was sent
for, because I was quick and lively in my ways, and white of face,
almost as white as the beautiful lady herself. My work was to wait on
the mistress, and help my cousin, who was her maid. Yamina--that was my
cousin's name--could have told you more about the place in the country
than I, for she was even then a woman. But she died a few months after
we both left the beautiful lady. We left because the master thought my
cousin carried a letter for her mistress, which he did not wish sent;
and he gave orders that we should no longer live under his roof."
"Surely you can remember where you went, and how you went, on leaving
the farmhouse?" Stephen persisted.
"Oh yes, we went back to Algiers. But it was a long distance, and took
us many days, because we had only a little money, and Yamina would not
spend it in buying tickets for the diligence, all the way. We walked
many miles, and only took a diligence when I cried, and was too tired
to move a step farther. At night we drove sometimes, I remember, and
often we rested under the tents of nomads who were kind to us.
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