"
"Saidee--he would never have murdered you?" Victoria whispered.
"He would if necessary--I'm sure of it. But it was safer not. Besides,
I'd often told him I wanted to die, so that was an incentive to keep me
alive. I didn't go to Mecca. I left the farm-house with Cassim, and he
took me to South Oran, where he is now. I had to stay in the care of a
marabouta, a terrible old woman, a bigot and a tyrant, a cousin of
Cassim's, on his mother's side, and a sister of the man who invented the
whole plot. The idea was that Cassim should seem to be drowned in the
Bosphorus, while staying at Constantinople with friends, after his
pilgrimage to Mecca. But luckily for him there was a big fire in the
hotel where he went to stop for the first night, so he just disappeared,
and a lot of trouble was saved. He told me about the adventure, when he
came to Oran. The next move was to Morocco. And from Morocco he
travelled here, in place of the cripple, when the last marabout died,
and the heir was called to his inheritance. That was nearly eight years
ago."
"And he's never been found out?"
"No. And he never will be. He's far too clever. Outwardly he's hand in
glove with the French. High officials and officers come here to consult
with him, because he's known to have immense influence all over the
South, and in the West, even in Morocco. He's masked, like a Touareg,
and the French believe it's because of a vow he made in Mecca.
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