We had crossed under the gilded dome and were about to enter one of the court-rooms, when my eye caught a large printed notice fixed to the wall. I halted and read. It was an imposing poster, headed in great black capitals, "Court of Assize," and was the public announcement that Henri Pirlot had been sentenced to death by that tribunal for the wilful murder of his wife, Mariette, at a cottage near Spoel. It further stated that the condemned man had confessed that the cause of the crime was jealousy. He was intoxicated, and having discovered his wife kissing a strange man who had visited her in his absence, he went in and deliberately stabbed her to the heart! "What a pair of idiots!" exclaimed Clementine, with a light laugh, as she read the notice. "The idea of killing a woman because she kissed her lover! Again, what a simpleton the woman was not to have been more wary! But--why--what's the matter, Theophile? You stand there gazing and looking as scared as if you'd seen a ghost. Any one would think _you_ knew the rustic beauty, and were the strange lover!" I started. A sickening sensation crept over me. The actress had little idea it was the terrible truth she uttered. I pleaded that I was not feeling well, and we left the building. CHAPTER TWELVE. THE CITY IN THE SKY. In the mystic haze of the slowly dying day, a solitary Arab, mounted on a _meheri_, or swift camel, and carrying his long rifle high above his head, rode speedily over the great silent wilderness of treacherous, ever-shifting sand. Once he drew rein, listening attentively, and turning his keen dark eyes to the left, where the distant serrated crests of the mountains of Nanagamma loomed forth like giant shadows; but as nothing broke the appalling stillness, he sped forward again until at length he came to a small oasis, where, under a clump of palms, he made his camel kneel, and then dismounted.