CHAPTER II

"_Dog, ounce, bear and bull,
Wolf, lion, horse_."

DU BARTAS.


Damaris should not have been strolling by herself in the native quarter.

If you are drab or flat of chest or soul or face, you can saunter your
fill in any bazaar without adventure befalling you; if, however, nature
should have endowed you with the colouring of a desert sunset, if, in
short, you _can_ add a splash of colour to anything so colourful as a
native bazaar, then 'twere wise to do your sauntering under the wing of
a vigilant chaperon, so that the curiosity and interest resultant on
your splash may reach you obliquely and "as through a glass, darkly."

But there was no one to worry the girl at this hour before sunset, so
that little by little and quite unconsciously she moved forward until
she stood outside the doorway.

She stood, outlined against a background of blazing colours, which
served in no way to dim her beauty. Through the yellow-white arch of
the doorway showed a stretch of turquoise-blue sky across which, upon a
string, swung golden onions and scarlet peppercorns, whilst underneath
ruminated a fine, superbly indifferent dromedary.

For a moment Hugh Carden Ali, jogged by Fate, looked straight across at