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Show member Benchaalal, the Spahi, the son of Mohammed Ali, he who came from the Zibans and is now an officer in Algiers. The stories he has told me of his doings! The things he has related to me of the French ladies- " "The Spahi !" said Sir Claude, more uneasily. "What did you say his name was?'' "Benchaalal, m'sieu, son of Mohammed Ali, the great Ca1d. He is beautiful. One cannot deny it. He French perfectly. He shoots , no Frenchman can shoot like ! He is strong. I have seen him up a walnut and crack it in his fingers." "The devil!" "M'sieu?" "Nothing. Go on, madame, go on!" Sir Claude had sat up, and was now leaning forward in his chair with his eyes fixed upon his garrulous com-panion. The darkness took the wide spaces of the land, and the night wind came again over the immense flats, and made the dry and dusty leaves of the vine rustle above their heads. "But he is the most tra1tre of all the Arabs, and he loves to tell of his villanies. When he goes to the desert to visit his father, he always passes by here. Sometimes he stays for a day or two and goes out after gazelle. And at night he sits here under the vine with me, m'sieu, as you are doing now, and he talks. Ah, he is cruel, and yet-" Again she spread out her and blew forth a sigh to join the wind ' among the vine-leaves. "One must look at him. listen to him. M'sieu, I dare say the devil, if he came out of the desert, if he sat here,. I dare say the devil would charm a woman. Who knows?" 83 |