And the dining-table was already set for three.
When Androvsky rode in with the Arabs Domini met him at the edge of the
hill.
"You saw my signal, Boris?"
"Yes--"
He was going to say more, when she interrupted him eagerly.
"Have you any gazelle? Ah----"
Across the mule of one of the Arabs she saw a body drooping, a delicate
head with thin, pointed horns, tiny legs with exquisite little feet that
moved as the mule moved.
"We shall want it to-night. Take it quickly to the cook's tent, Ahmed."
Androvsky got off his mule.
"There's a light in the tower!" he said, looking at her and then
dropping his eyes.
"Yes."
"And I saw two signals. There were two brands being waved together."
"To-night, we have comrades in the desert."
"Comrades!" he said.
His voice sounded startled.
"Men who have escaped from a horrible death in the dunes."
"Arabs?"
"French."
Quickly she told him her story. He listened in silence. When she had
finished he said nothing. But she saw him look at the dining-table laid
for three and his expression was dark and gloomy.
"Boris, you don't mind!" she said in surprise.
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