The girl moved forward and keeping closely at her side he followed;
they crossed to the other wall, and turned towards the right,
stopping before the deeper shadow of a small, pointed door set into
the heavy brick of the high wall. From her draperies the girl drew
out a huge key.

She fitted it into the ancient lock and turned it; carefully she
pressed open the gate and stared anxiously into the gloom of the
shadowy garden that it disclosed.

Relief colored her voice as she turned to him.

"All is quiet.... I am safe, now.... And so--good-bye, monsieur."

"And this is where you live?" Ryder whispered.

"There--in that wing," she murmured, slipping within the gate, and
he stole after her, and looked across the garden, through a fringe
of date palms, to the outlines of the buildings.

Dim and dark showed the high walls, black as a prison, only here and
there the pale orange oblong of a lighted window.

"Did you climb out the window?" he murmured.

From beneath the veil came a little sound of soft derision.

"But there are always bars, even in the garden windows of the
haremlik!... No, I stole down by an old stair.... That wing, there,