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Updated: June 6, 2025
I sat down on a bench before the table. My attendants were to eat at the Café Maure. "Where are you going to sleep?" I asked of D'oud. "At the Café Maure, monsieur, if monsieur is not afraid to sleep alone. Here is the key. Monsieur can lock himself in. The door is strong." I was helping myself to the soup. The rising wind blew up the skirts of the Spahi's scarlet robe.
"Till four in the afternoon I, my wife, and my children sleep in the black room. At that hour I rise once more, and go quietly to the Café Maure in old Biskra, near my house. I play cards there for five coffees till seven o'clock. At seven the mosquitoes arrive, and prevent us from playing any more." "How intrusive! Always at seven?" "Always at seven.
And when they had admired a tame gazelle which nibbled cakes of almond and honey from their hands, the Caïd insisted on presenting it to his good friend, Monsieur Caird. Over the cups of café maure, they talked of Captain Cassim ben Halim, but their host could or would tell them nothing beyond the fact that Ben Halim had once lived for a little while not far from Bou-Saada.
Outside the Café Maure D'oud was standing with the white hood of his burnous drawn forward over his head; one or two ragged Arabs stood with him. "They've been playing tom-toms in the village, D'oud?" "Monsieur asks if " "Tom-toms. Can't you understand?" "Ah! Monsieur is laughing. Tom-toms here! And dancers, too, perhaps! Monsieur thinks there are dancers? Fatma and Khadija and Aïchouch "
The Spahi stared at my cigar so persistently that I was obliged to offer him one. When I had done so, and he had loftily accepted it, I half turned towards the murderer. The Spahi scowled ferociously. I put my cigar-case back into my pocket. It is unwise to offend the powerful if your sympathy lies with the powerless. Sidi-Massarli was soon explored. It contained a Café Maure, into which I peered.
In the wind was it imagination? I seemed to hear some thin, passing echoes of a tom-tom's beat. "Come in," I said to the Spahi. "You shall sup with me to-night, and and you shall sleep here with me." D'oud's expressive face became sinister. Arabs are almost as jealous as they are vain. "But, monsieur, he will sleep in the Café Maure. If monsieur wishes for a companion, I "
"We shall see how you are at your ease, Master Gaston le Maure," retorted Sanchez from the depths of the tower, "when another Borgne shall make his appearance, and string you up as a traitor to King Charles, your liege lord." "Le Borgne Basque talking of traitors and such gear!" returned Gaston; "but he will tell a different tale when the succours come from the Prince."
"I thought that to-night it would be better if we were a little more alone than we are here, just opposite to that Cafe Maure, and with the servants. And on the other side there are the palms and the water. And the doves were talking there as we rode in. When we have finished dinner we can go and sit there and be quiet." "Together," he said. An eager light had come into his eyes.
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