A stain of red showed in Maieddine's cheeks, and his eyes lighted up.
"They have been watching, expecting us," he said. "Now my father is
sending men to bid us welcome."
"Perhaps he is coming himself," said Victoria, for there was one figure
riding in the centre which seemed to her more splendidly dignified than
the others, though all were magnificent horsemen.
"No. It would not be right that the Agha himself should come to meet his
son," Maieddine explained. "Besides he would be wearing a scarlet
burnous, embroidered with gold. He does me enough honour in sending out
the pick of his goum, which is among the finest of the Sahara."
Victoria had picked up a great deal of desert lore by this time, and
knew that the "pick of the goum" would mean the best horses in the
Agha's stables, the crack riders among his trained men--fighting men,
such as he would give to the Government, if Arab soldiers were needed.
The dozen cavaliers swept over the desert, making the sand fly up under
the horses' hoofs in a yellow spray; and nearing the carriage they
spread themselves in a semi-circle, the man Victoria had mistaken for
the Agha riding forward to speak to Maieddine.
"It is my brother-in-law, Abderrhaman ben Douadi," exclaimed Maieddine,
waving his hand.
M'Barka pulled her veil closer, and because she did so, Victoria hid her
face also, rather than shock the Arab woman's prejudices.
At a word from his master, the driver stopped his mules so quickly as to
bring them on their haunches, and Maieddine sprang out.
Pages:
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318