“Don’t be afraid, she is always nervous with strangers, also is she a little spoilt, being the fastest and most perfect Bactrian camel in the whole of Egypt and Arabia.  Her pedigree, on parchment embossed with gold, goes back almost to Ismael, and is kept in a Millwell safe in my oasis, which shows that East does meet West occasionally.  She has, up to to-night, known no rider but me, and is used only for short journeys of about seven days; you see these two-humped beasts can only go three days with comfort without a drink, but their pace is so smooth that it almost induces one to sleep.  Also Taffadaln, which means welcome, a name given to her after her mother had foaled three he-camels, has a special guard both day and night, for there are many who covet her, for she is the queen of camels, with her blood and breeding enhanced by many years of training and special treatment.  But alas! though her coat is as silk, the cushions of her feet without fault, and her teeth unblemished ivory, her manners are as ill-bred, and her indifference to those who love her as great as that of the lowest of her species which pollute the streets of Cairo.”  And leaning down he patted the beast’s head, speaking to her in the native tongue, whereupon she made juicy, gurgling sounds in her long throat, and nuzzled the flowing sleeve, which might have meant affection in any other animal but a camel.

“More extremes,” he added, as a long, soft blast of a motor-horn sounded just outside the walls.  “Will you not sit down whilst I explain things for the last time,” unwinding, as he spoke, the soft black cloak from about him, and folding it to make a cushion for the stone, standing silhouetted against the shadow of the walls, whilst the slight breeze blowing the snow-white raiment outlined the tremendous width of shoulder, the slimness of the waist, and the muscular leanness of the whole body.

And Jill sat down with a suddenness surprising in so controlled a person, and to hide a sudden rush of rosy colour which swept uncontrollably from chin to brow, extracted another cigarette from the Russian case.

“‘Simon Artz,’ I am sure!  May I not offer you one of mine?  They are all made especially and only for me.  And do you prize the case?  No!”

As the girl shook her head he took the wooden trifle from her, closed his hand gently, and, crushing it to matchwood, dropped it soundlessly on to the sand.

And when Hahmed, the Arab, had finished speaking, Jill Carden, the English girl, understood that with her only rested the decision, that even now, at the eleventh hour, she was still absolutely free to go.

Outside the gates waited the man’s car, ready to take her wherever she listed on her way home!  At her feet lay the camels, ready to take her to all the possibilities of the unknown!