believe he would.' Raoul resumed his slow, evenly paced stroll. 'It is too long a story of family contention to bore you with, but if he can prevent Amorel from fulfilling the conditions he will. He has only to remove her from Morocco for one vital day to invalidate the will and he can claim what he thinks is his right. He has much to gain and nothing to lose.'
At last Melissa was convinced that the shadows behind this strange affair held reality after all, and she
felt her doubts regarding Raoul Germont's motive begin to dissolve. There was no question of his complete sincerity.
She said, 'You spoke of his almost succeeding. In which way?'
'The day my cousin set out from London, an attempt was made to kidnap her at the airport. Unfortunately for Jules, they got the wrong girl, there was an enquiry and a feeble excuse of it being a student prank, a practical joke. But we know it wasn't.'
Melissa shivered. This was the very incident which her mother had recalled the night before she set off in search of Avril. She remembered laughing at her mother, saying these things didn't happen to ordinary people ... was anyone ever an ordinary person?
Her sympathies had undergone a swing during Raoul's account, and she could almost forgive him for his highhanded treatment of herself.
As though he sensed this he turned his head and asked : 'You are not thinking quite so ill of me now?'
No,' her eyes were thoughtful, 'but if only you'd explained in the first place, instead of ...'
'There was no time. Jules arrived in Tangier with his son last week. We had been staying at a friend's home at Al Hoceima, and there, unfortunately, your sister was recognised by an acquaintance of hers. I contemplated staying in the old summer home outside Casa—we rarely visit it now. After my grandmother died my grandfather could not bear to return there. We ...'
'Is that the house of the amulet Avril visited? Where ...?'
He nodded. was there one afternoon when your sister decided to explore. Later I met her again at
Sonia's villa.'
It was beginning to tie in now. Melissa stayed silent, and he continued :
'When you began to make your enquiries I became worried. If you had remained alone I would have arranged for Avril to visit you, but you had involved Philippe St Clair, and I did not know how many others. When you traced us to the house at Casa I had to take action quickly, and I decided the best way to ensure safety for Amorel and your sister was to have you brought to Kadir as well.'
The delicious cool of the desert night became chill. Melissa shivered again, and he said quickly : 'You are cold. We will return to the car—you can see Kadir some other time.'
At her look of puzzlement as she halted obediently, he gestured carelessly. 'Over that rise is Kadir. It is a picture of which I never weary, particularly as the moon rises.'
'Oh ... But I'd like to see ... I thought we were still miles away.'
Without speaking he turned again, and was silent until they left the dimly marked track and surmounted the long curving ridge. The sand was soft and shifting, and filled her sandals, but she forgot the impulse to shake and wriggle her toes as they reached the crest and she saw the panorama across the dark desert.
It was almost too beautiful to be real; an exotic stage cutout of moonlit white rooftops, a pearly domed minaret of the mosque, fringed by the dark silhouettes of palms and set against a sky so rich it was like a blue velvet backcloth strewn with silver glitter. But it was real, and so was the spell that overtook
Melissa at that moment, to cast an enchantment she knew she would remember all her days. This was desert magic.
Very quietly, Raoul said : `Will you stay—willingly? Accept my hospitality and see the true Morocco?'
`I—I don't know ... It's so beautiful I can't believe in it.'
'Then you must stay until you do believe. After all, why return after a mere day or so? Two days which have brought distress to you, and for which I should like to make amends.'
Bemused now, she could not reply, knowing if she did it would hold an assent filled with fervency she still wanted to withhold. She had known Raoul's arrogance, his irony, his anger and his ruthlessness; now she was experiencing his charm and persuasiveness, and her own readiness to be swayed was disturbing.
Suddenlyhe looked down at her and his gaze willed her to raise her own to him, to be held unswervingly. He said softly : 'You are not still afraid, surely?'
The final silken thread of the mesh of enchantment was spun. She said unevenly : 'You make it very difficult for me to refuse. Yes, I will stay—and I am not afraid,' she added in the faintest whisper of defiance.
'Good, then we will consider it settled.'
Briskly he took her arm and turned her towards the distant lights of the car. The calmness of his reply came as anticlimax, unexpected. Melissa quickened her steps to keep pace with his long strides down the slope. Anticlimax to what? What had she expected ...?
CHAPTER V
THE strain of the past two days overtook Melissa suddenly that night and she fell into a heavy sleep the moment her face sank against the cool silkiness of her pillow. She had no recollection of her sleepy response when Meriam brought her tea the following morning and the next thing she knew was Avril tugging the sheet back and shaking her into wakefulness.
'Come on, Lissa,' she cried impatiently, 'you're holding us up.'
'Me? How?' She rubbed her eyes and sat up. 'What time is it?'
Nearer ten than nine. Will you come and sort out what you want? Clothes, you dumb cluck,' she added in the same tone. 'Your own stuff won't be here before tomorrow. Lucky we're about the same size—and Amorel says you can help yourself to hers, seeing that it's all in a good cause.'
Still not completely awake and aware of the sense of unreality creeping back—she was still here !—Melissa shrugged into her wrap and adjourned to her sister's room.
feel more like the beggar at the feast every moment,' she said with not very good grace when she had selected the minimum of what she would need for the day from Avril's decidedly extensive wardrobe.
Her sister merely shrugged, but Amorel smiled, showing much more friendliness than she had the
previous day. 'You'd better borrow some of my suncream,' she said. 'With your fair skin you'll burn out here if you don't watch out.'
Melissa was aware of this already. Being a redhead she had the delicate creamy fairness that tanned reluctantly but glowed readily—and painfully. She murmured her thanks, and the younger girl added : 'If you get a move on you can have your fortune told.'
'Fortune?'
'The local sand diviner. We got Meriam to send for him this morning—he's super.'
Avril's mouth curved cynically. 'She's had her sand read three times since we got here—and believed every word of it.'
'So did you.'
!All that guff about the desert calling her home !'
Despite Avril's scornful teasing it was plain that a certain amount of friendship had grown between the two girls. Amorel merely laughed and said, `Anyway, he's far better than the horoscopes in the mags at home, and it's something to do. We'll be down by the pool—I'll bet he'll surprise you.'
Would he? Melissa had her doubts. A session with a fortune-teller was the last thing that appealed in her present mood. She went to shower and dress, then ate a light breakfast, alone except for the silent boy who had served the previous morning.
There was no sign of Raoul Germont, nor was there any indication of his presence when sheer loneliness sent her in search of the other two. She found them by the pool, which though small struck an instant note of freshness, completely shaded as it was by thick clumps of tall palms. On a small tiled terrace at one
end the sand diviner was squatting, a thin square of board on the ground before him and the two girls sitting enrapt as he bent over the thin film of sand.
must mean Larry,' Amorel was saying. `He's the only man I know who can pluck music from the air. Well, he does play a guitar—though not very
well,' she giggled.
'Ask him if he's past, present or future,' said Avril.
But the dark visaged seer was impassive. He smoothed out the sand with a decisive movement of obliteration and reached for the piece of cloth at his side. 'The sand will not speak to those who disbelieve,' he said with finality, tipping the sand on to the cloth and drawing the thong to enclose it. Obviously the hour of prophecy was over.
told you not to laugh. You know it ...' Amorel turned her head and saw Melissa. 'Come on—you're just in time to learn your fate.'
No, thanks.' Melissa took a step back. 'I'd prefer to remain in ignorance of . . .' Her voice tailed off as the sand diviner’s gaze rose to her face. He stretched out a thin bony hand, but the gesture held none of the whining supplication of the professional touts she had seen at the tourists' haunts. There was authority in it, and the proud, burning eyes held an intensity that invoked a shiver in her.
He said, `The lalla's fate is written, even though she is denying it, and will deny it against the truth of the sand.'
The lingering smiles faded from the faces of the other two girls. They stared as Melissa went forward slowly and almost against her will looked down at the handful of sand the diviner cast across the board.
He went on in the same remote tones : 'You have come from afar, into darkness through the day and clouds across the night. There is much darkness and fear for the lalla, but it comes not from the desert you fear, nor from the destiny you deny. Hear not the voices you trust, and take not that which is not your own, for the desert veils the hand of Kismet who holds the key to the freedom you seek.'
With deliberate care he scattered the fine sand and traced a strange design with a small pointed stick. He bent over it, and Melissa caught her breath in a sigh.
`I—I don't understand,' she faltered. 'Whom must I trust and what am I not to take?'
'It is not always given to mortals to understand.' He looked up at her and there was finality in his grave features. He stabbed at the sand. 'There is the talisman. Take it and do not fear the darkness. The talisman is the key.'
'What talisman?' She shook her head. 'What do you mean?'
'It must remain hidden. Nothing can quell the course of destiny. Look back not upon the sea of night and step upon the sands of the morning. Allah be with you. You will not step alone.'
Silence held the girls in its grip while the diviner gathered together his things and stowed the small drawstring bag of sand beneath the white robe. He touched his forehead gravely, 'Peace be vvith you, insie Allah,' and in moments was gone.
There had been a strange dignity about him, and a conviction that still held Melissa in its spell, try as she might to free herself.
Avril gave a small choked laugh and said, 'What on
earth was all that about? He never said anything like that to us.'
Melissa shook her head, and Amorel frowned. 'It gave me the shivers—I'm glad it wasn't me. I wonder what he meant by talisman and key. Could you see what he drew?'
Melissa was still silent, puzzled. At last she said: don't think he meant a talisman or key. They were his symbols of prophecy, but they could mean anything—goodness knows what !' she exclaimed with a lightness that wasn't quite genuine. 'But at least it's a change from the dark handsome stranger and news from across the sea sort of thing.'
'It was a kind of warning, though, I felt it.' Amorel frowned. `I'm sure he was trying to tell you something.' She ignored Avril's scornful exclamation and a light came into her eyes. know! We'll ask my cousin. He'll know. He understands their symbolism —he should do, he's ...'
'Not Raoul,' Melissa broke in sharply. `No, please don't ask him, for heaven's sake. He ...'
'And what must she not ask me?'
He had approached unheard, immaculate in riding kit and his dark head still ruffled by the desert winds. There was a note of indulgence in his voice for his young cousin, but cool enquiry was in the dark gaze resting on Melissa's flushed face.
Amorel chose to ignore the pleading glance Melissa threw at her and proceeded to recount—almost verbatim—the diviner's words.
He listened in silence, the curve of his riding crop tapping lightly against one gleaming leather boot. 'And you take this seriously?' he remarked when she
had finished.
No, of course not.' Melissa's mouth tightened, and she turned away, aware of a feeling of uncomfortable heat. Choosing to blame it on the increasing temperature of the morning instead of the effect of Raoul Germont's sardonic appraisal, she slipped off the light jacket as he said :
'You are wise to dismiss such fancies. After all, what danger here could arouse your fears?'
'None, monsieur.'
'But somebody's been arousing the bruises—look at your arms!'
In the silence after Avril's sudden observation Melissa felt as though the marks on her arms were burning like brands for the world to see. From childhood she had become resigned to the unfortunate fact that she did bruise easily, but never before had she hated that fact, and Avril's sharp eyes, as much as that moment.
`I—I bumped myself on—on something.' Angrily she shouldered back into the jacket to hide from sight those marks of Raoul's force the previous day and turned away, almost running to escape back to the house.
'Hey! Aren't you going to swim?' Amorel called.
'Later.' Breathing hard, Melissa returned to her room. When she had cooled down a little she sat on the edge of her bed and stared resentfully at the brilliance of the blossoms beyond the dark, lattice lace oblong of the window. The scents of rose and orange blossom drifted faintly into the room, but they brought her no pleasure.
How was she going to stand three weeks of this?
Avril seemed perfectly happy—her mercenary little soul was being well greased, she reflected bitterly—and Amorel seemed to treat life as a joke—which she could afford to, with a fortune at the end of three weeks and a cousin cum self appointed guardian who was going to make sure she got it, ruthlessly sure. But what do I get out of it? Melissa asked herself despairingly. The livid imprints of a man's hands and a situation so mortifying as to be unbearable.
Trying to control her anger as common sense told her that she could only hurt herself by giving rein to it, she wandered to the window and stared through the grille at the peaceful riad. It could have been the holiday of a lifetime. For the house on the edge of the desert lacked nothing in sybaritic comfort and its setting evoked a certain atmosphere that stole upon the senses against all resistance of will. Yes, there was a magic about Kadir . . .
Abruptly she turned away; it was a magic she would prefer to leave as soon as possible. The holiday was a prison sentence; and the host was her gaoler.
Suddenly an angry impulse sent her to Avril's room. There was no sign of her sister, and uncaringly she opened the wardrobe and took out a blouse she had passed over earlier that morning. It was flame coloured cobwebby lace, a colour that needed courage to wear with her colouring, and it was semitransparent, but it had long sleeves and so would serve her purpose. There was a white pique skirt which wasn't an ideal complement to the blouse but more acceptable than the flame silk trousers that completed the ensemble on Avril, and she took them back to her room and changed. That done, and by now quite
aware that she was sulking and unrepentant of that
fact, she found a shady pergola seat in a secluded part
of the riad and settled down to read until lunch time.
During that meal she remained polite but distant while Raoul, apparently in a good humour, played the perfect host and treated Avril and his cousin as though they were his dear and precious V.I.P. guests. Avril immediately noted the blouse, but forbore to comment, except to remark enigmatically, 'Where's the rest of it?' as they moved out on to the patio for coffee.
Melissa merely shook her head. She wanted the lazy toying with after the meal drinks and cigarettes to be over so that she could escape the undercurrents of unease that held her tense when Raoul Ger
mont was present. She thought of the sand diviner, and already the mental disturbance of those moments were disappearing, to be replaced by a new mood of irony. The dawning fear now was that of boredom! Melissa was by nature an active person. Lazing around had never appealed to her, but it seemed that a long session of lazing around was to be her fate—if Raoul had his way. Whatever did they do with themselves all day? There was a limit to the time one could spend reading, and to lie around in this sun was to court heatstroke. She was about to make her excuses and leave the little group when Avril stretched languidly and looked at Raoul.
'My little sister's bored to hell already. What are you going to do about it?'
'Are you, Miss Blair?' The tawny lights glimmered in his dark eyes. We must remedy that. What would you like to do?'
She had the feeling he was laughing at her, even though his lean features were gravely composed. 'Does it matter what I want?' she said bitterly.
'But of course,' he said smoothly, 'provided it is within reason.'
'Your reason,' she countered, and looked away.
There was a cold little silence, then Amorel said : 'We could go to the souk—it's el khemis today. See,' she grinned proudly, 'I'm learning the right days already.'
'It will be hot and dusty,' Raoul said.
'So what? I adore the souks. Oh, please, Raoul.' She got up and skipped to his side, putting one arm round his shoulders and looking down into his face with a wheedling expression.
'But Raoul doesn't love the souks—sniffing around the perfume blender, and that character with those ghastly snakes.' Avril shuddered. 'I'm sure Raoul can think of something more entertaining.'
Avril's approach was totally different from that of the younger girl, and the gaze she directed at Raoul was openly challenging. 'Well, what about it?' she added when he did not immediately reply.
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