Now that he was in front of her, Tamara could not help admiring the
lines of his figure. He was certainly a very decent shape, and
certainly knew how to ride.
Then it came to her that this was a most singular adventure, and the
faint pink mounted to her clear cheeks when she remembered how
dreadfully shocked Millicent would be--or any of the family! But it was
her night of rebellion, so things must take their course.
The young man rode in front until they were on the flat desert, then he
drew rein and waited for her.
"You see," he said, "we skirt these rocks and then we shall ride
through the village. One can very well imagine it has been the same
always."
They entered the little town. The streets were extremely narrow and the
dark houses gave an air of mystery--a speculation--what could be going
on behind those closed shutters? Here and there a straight blue-clad
figure slunk away round a corner. There was a deep silence and the
moonlight made the shadows sharp as a knife. Then a shaft of red light
would shoot from some strange low hovel as they passed, and they could
see inside a circle of Arab Bedouins crouching over a fire. There
seemed no hilarity, their faces were solemn as the grave.
Presently, in the narrowest and darkest street, there was a sound of
tom-toms, strains of weird music and voices, and through the chinks of
the half-opened shutters light streamed across the road--while a small
crowd of Arabs were grouped about the gate in the wall holding donkeys
and a camel.
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