Such ideas would
spoil the rest of the journey for both.
"Remember all I have told thee, when the time comes," M'Barka warned
her.
"Yes--oh yes, I will remember."
"Now it is my turn. Read the sand for me," said Maieddine.
M'Barka made as if she would wrap the sand in its bag. "I can tell thy
future better another time. Not now. It would not be wise. Besides, I
have done enough. I am tired."
"Look but a little way along the future, then, and say what thou seest.
I feel that it will bring good fortune to touch the sand where the hand
of Ourieda has touched it."
Always now, he spoke of Victoria, or to her, as "Rose" (Ourieda in
Arabic); but as M'Barka gave her that name also, the girl could hardly
object.
"I tell thee, instead it may bring thee evil."
"For good or evil, I will have the fortune now," Maieddine insisted.
"Be it upon thy head, oh cousin, not mine. Take thy handful of sand, and
make thy wish."
Maieddine took it from the place Victoria had touched, and his wish was
that, as the grains of sand mingled, so their destinies might mingle
inseparably, his and hers.
M'Barka traced the three rows of mystic signs, and read her notebook,
mumbling. But suddenly she let it drop into her lap, covering the signs
with both thin hands.
"What ails thee?" Maieddine asked, frowning.
"I saw thee stand still and let an opportunity slip by."
"I shall not do that."
"The sand has said it.
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