"
"Pardon, loveliest lady. But this is another matter. A friend of our
lord brings these visitors to thee. One is kin of his. She seeks to be
healed of a malady, by the power of the Baraka. But the other is a
Roumia."
The wife of the great marabout shut the book in which she had been
writing, and her mind travelled quickly to the sender of the
carrier-pigeon. A European woman, the first who had ever come to the
Zaouia in eight years! It must be that she had a message from him.
Somehow he had contrived this visit. She dared ask no more questions.
"I will see these ladies," she said. "Let them come to me here."
"Already the old one is resting in the guest-house," answered the
negress. "She has her own servant, and she asks to see thee no earlier
than to-morrow, when she has rested, and is able to pay thee her
respects. It is the other, the young Roumia, who begs to speak with thee
to-night."
The wife of the marabout was more certain than ever that her visitor
must come from the sender of the pigeon. She was glad of an excuse to
talk with his messenger alone, without waiting.
"Go fetch her," she directed. "And when thou hast brought her to the
door I shall no longer need thee, Noura."
Her heart was beating fast. She dreaded some final decision, or the need
to make a decision, yet she knew that she would be bitterly disappointed
if, after all, the European woman were not what she thought.
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