Chapter 9

Taking the parcel from his pack, he attacked the fine stitches with the point of his dagger. It was a tedious and exasperating task, for Ione had done her work well. At length he laid the cover back, and his eyes widened with astonishment. The linen sheath contained a long, heavy braid of hair! Whose—but Fara’s?

Voldi took it up and held it against his cheek. He pressed his lips to it. His eyes were misty. Gradually the implications of Ione’s gift dawned upon him, and he muttered an ejaculation of sudden understanding. Fara was impersonating a young man! This was Ione’s way of telling him that he should not make inquiries about a girl! He was to look for a man! How dared Fara take such a risk? But here was the incontrovertible evidence that she had done so! Poor Ione wasn’t as crazy as they thought. Voldi was exultant, but not for long. His apprehension soon cooled his joy. How could Fara hope to preserve so difficult an incognito? Sooner or later she must be discovered—and be worse off for her disguise.

He went to sleep, after hours of wakefulness, with the tender trophy on his pillow. Awake at dawn, he found his taciturn host pottering about in the stableyard.

‘Let me ask you this question,’ said Voldi sternly. ‘Did you see a young man, an Arabian, in these parts about a fortnight ago—riding a bay filly?’

‘That I did, sir,’ replied the old man—’a handsome young fellow he was, and very well dressed, too. He stopped here; slept in the same room you had last night.’

‘Uhh—what a room!’ growled Voldi.

The old man chuckled shamelessly.

‘That other young Arab didn’t like the room, either. You should have heard him! Upon my word, sir, that young fellow could swear like a drunken sailor! I never heard such a mouthful of curses. Some of ’em were new words that I didn’t know.’

Voldi looked puzzled for a minute—and then laughed.

‘A pretty rough youngster, was he?’

‘He was indeed, sir. He must be very rich; used to having his own way. He ordered us about as if we were slaves; though I must say he was not stingy.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me about him last night when I asked you?’

The old fellow’s jaw sagged and a look of comprehension came into his crafty eyes.

‘But you inquired about a young woman!’ he countered. ‘Might this young man you’re asking for be the young woman you thought you wanted to know about last night?’ He threw back his grizzled head and cackled shrilly. ‘We thought there was something queer about him! He! He! Well, I still say that nobody ever cursed like that on this oasis—and many’s the camel-driver we’ve put up!’

* * * * *