She passed near them sometimes going
to the Moorish baths, but the long blue drapery covered her face then,
and she was guarded by veiled negresses and eunuchs. They looked her way
reverently, but had never seen her face, perhaps did not know who she
was, though no doubt they had all heard and gossipped about the romantic
history of the new wife, the beautiful Ouled Nail, to whom the marabout
had condescended because of her far-famed, her marvellous, almost
incredible loveliness, which made her a consort worthy of a saint.
The river was a mirror this evening, reflecting the sunset of crimson
and gold, and the young crescent moon fought for and devoured, then
vomited forth again by strange black cloud-monsters. The old brown
palm-trunks, on which the village was built, were repeated in the still
water, and seemed to go down and down, as if their roots might reach to
the other side of the world.
Over the crumbling doorways of the miserable houses bleached skulls and
bones of animals were nailed for luck. The red light of the setting sun
stained them as if with blood, and they were more than ever disgusting
to the watcher on the white roof. They were the symbols of superstitions
the most Eastern and barbaric, ideas which she hated, as she was
beginning to hate all Eastern things and people.
The streak of rose which meant a flock of flying flamingoes had faded
out of the sky. The birds seemed to have vanished into the sunset, and
hardly had they gone when the loud crystalline voice of the muezzin
began calling the faithful to prayer.
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