The Central Nevadan. [volume] (Battle Mountain, Nev.) 1885-1907, 1903-04-16
UNDER TWO FLAGS

cred flesh would merit tenderness from
the hand it had poisoned.
When he was swung down from the
saddle and laid In front of a yedette fire,
sheltered from the bitter north wind
that was then blowing cruelty, the
bright, black. spellke eyes of the gam
in opened with q strange gleam in
them.
"Picpon will remember" he MUIR
INJURED.
Cecil himself, having watered, fed
and Uttered down his tired horse, made
his way to a little cafe he commonly
freauented and spent the few sou he
could afford on an iced draft of lemon
favored drink. Eat he could not. Over
fatigue had given him a nausea for
food.
A few doors farther in the street
there was a quaint place kept by an
old Moor, who had some of the rarest
and most beautiful treasures Of AL
gerian workmanship in his long. dark,
silent chambers. With this old man
Cecil had something OF a friendship;
he had protected him M day from the
mocgery and outrage Of some drunken
IndigenS, and the Moor, warmly CRATE
full. was ever ready to give him a cup
Oh coffee and a hubble bubble In the
stiffness of his dwelling. It's resort
was sometimes welcome to him as the
one spot. quiet and noiseless, to which
he could escape out of the continuous
turmoil of street and of barrack, and
he went thither now.
NO coffee, no sherbert, thanks, good
father" said Cecil, in answer to the
Moor's hospitable ~entreaties. "Give
me only license to sit in the quiet here.
! am very tired"
"Sit and be welcome, my son." said
Ben Arsli. "Whom should this roof
shelter in honor. II not thee? Musjid
shall bring thee the supreme solace."
The supreme solace was a narghile,
and it's great bowl of rosewater was
soon set down by the little Moorish
lad at Cecils side. Whether fatigue
really weighted his eyes with slumbcr,
or whether the soothing sedative of
the pipe had It's influence, he had not
sat long in the perfect stiffness of the
1oor's shop before he s~lept-the heavy,
dreamless sleep of intense exhaustion.
Ben Arsli glanced at him. and babe
Musjid be very quiet. Half an hour
or more passed; one had entered the
place. The grave old Moslem was half
slumbering himself. when there came
a delicate odor Of perfumed laces. a
delicate rustic of silk swept the floor
nd a lady's voice asked the price of an
ostrich egg superbly mounted In gold.
Ben Arsli opened his eyes-the chas-
eur slept on; the newcomer was one
Of those great ladies who now and
then winter In Algeria.
The Moor rose instantly. with pro-
found salaams, and began to spread
before her the richest treasures Of his
stock, and throughout her survey Ben
Arsli kept her near the entrance. and
Cecil slept or ~unaroused.
A roll of notes had passed from her
hand to the Moslem's. and she was
about to glide out to her carriage
when a lamp which hung at the far
ther end caught her fancy.
rs that for sale?" she inquired.
As he answered In the affirmative
she moved up the shop and. her eyes
being lifted to the lamp. had drawn
close to Cecil before she saw him.
When she did so, she paused near In
astonishmeIt.
rs that soldier asleep?"
"He IS. madame" softly answered
the old man in his slow, studied
French. "He comes here to rest some
times out of the noise. He was very
tired today, and, 1 think, Ill, would he
have confessed"
"Indeed" Her eyes fell on him with
compassion. He had fallen into an at
titude of much grace and of utter ex-
haustlon. His head was uncovered
and rested on one arm. so that the