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Updated: June 12, 2025
De Trevignac had come. He dreaded something in Amara. This light came. For an instant she fancied that the light was a lamp carried by De Trevignac. Then she saw that it gleamed upon a long black robe, the soutane of a priest. As she and Androvsky rode into Amara she had asked herself whether his second dread would be followed, as his first dread had been, by an unusual incident.
"The tower!" he said, with a quick glance at De Trevignac. "I why should I look at the tower?" "I don't know, but you did, almost as if you were afraid of it." "My tower!" said De Trevignac. Another roar of laughter reached them from the camp fire.
Don't you remember at Mogar?" At the mention of the name his face clouded and she was sorry she had spoken it. Since they had left the hill above the mirage sea they had scarcely ever alluded to their night there. They had never once talked of the dinner in camp with De Trevignac and his men, or renewed their conversation in the tent on the subject of religion.
"He was late in returning, but he brought gazelle. Now you must sit down at once." She led the way to the dining-tent. De Trevignac glanced at the table laid for three with an eager anticipation which he was far too natural to try to conceal. "Madame," he said, "if I disgrace myself to-night, if I eat like an ogre in a fairy tale, will you forgive me?" "I will not forgive you if you don't."
Then she went away quickly, eagerly, into the darkness. "To be her husband!" murmured De Trevignac. "Lucky lucky fellow!" And he dropped his brand beside hers on the ground, and stood watching the two flames mingle. "Lucky lucky fellow!" he said again aloud. "I wonder what he's like." When Domini reached the camp she found it in a bustle.
He made an uncertain movement, as if to go towards the dunes, checked it, and went hurriedly into the dressing-tent. As he disappeared De Trevignac came into the camp with his men. Batouch conducted the latter with all ceremony towards the fire which burned before the tents of the attendants, and, for the moment, Domini was left alone with De Trevignac. "My husband is coming directly," she said.
As she drew near to the camp she saw the lamplight shining in the tent, where doubtless De Trevignac and Androvsky were smoking and talking in frank good fellowship. It was like a bright star, she thought, that gleam of light that shone out of her home, the brightest of all the stars of Africa. She went towards it.
"We are accustomed to gaiety round the camp fire." "You are making a long stay in the desert, Monsieur?" asked De Trevignac. "I hope so, Monsieur. It depends on my it depends on Madame Androvsky." "Why didn't he say 'my wife'?" thought De Trevignac. And again he searched his memory. "Had he ever met this man? If so, where?"
An Arab brought coffee, and the same African liqueur which had been taken to the tent on the night when Trevignac had dined with Domini and Androvsky. When the priest was about to drink some of it, he suddenly paused, and put the glass down. Domini leant forward. "Louarine," she said, reading the name on the bottle. "Won't you have some?"
The spectacles were gone from his eyes, and between his lips was a large Havana his last, kept by him among the dunes as a possible solace in the dreadful hour of death. "Monsieur de Trevignac, I want you to dine with us in camp to-night only to dine. We won't keep you from your bed one moment after the coffee and the cognac.
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