She appealed to me in a way that was new and almost irresistible; it was an appeal quite Oriental, sensuous--indescribable. I just wanted to take her in my arms and kiss those tantalizing lips; talking seemed a waste of time. Of course, I cannot hope to make you understand; but it was extraordinary. I felt that I was losing my head; the glances of those long dark eyes were setting me on fire. Suddenly, she terminated this, our first _tête-à-tête_. She raised her finger to her veiled lips and glided away into the shadows like a phantom. A sentence died, unfinished, on my tongue. I turned, and looked over my shoulder. Gad! I got a fright! A most hideous Oriental of some kind, having only one eye but that afire with malignancy, was watching me from where he stood half concealed by a boat. My lily of Damascus was guarded! Humming, with an assumption of unconcern, I strolled away and joined the dancers below. II That was the beginning, then. I cursed to think how short a time was at my disposal; but since, the very next morning, I found myself enjoying a second delicious little stolen interview, I perceived that my company was not unacceptable. What? oh, I had lost my head entirely; I admit it. It was an effort to speak of matters ordinary, topics of the ship; my impulse was to whisper delicious nonsense into those tiny ears. However, I forced myself to talk about things in general, and told her that the famous diamond, Lure of Souls, was aboard. This was news to her, and she seemed to be tremendously interested. Her interest was of such a childish sort, so naïve, that the project grew up in my mind at that very moment--the project that was to terminate so disastrously. It was hardly a matter of so many words; there was nothing definite about the thing at all, and this, our second interview, was cut short in much the same manner as the first. "_Ssh! Mustapha!_" With those whispered words, and a dazzling smile, this jewel of Damascus who interested me so much more deeply than the Rajah's diamond, departed hurriedly--and I turned to meet again the malignant gaze of the wall-eyed guardian. The sort of romance in which I was steeped at that time flourishes and grows fat upon incidents of this kind. I have searched my memory many a time since then, for some word or hint to prove that the conversation about the diamond was opened and guided in a desired direction by the lady of the _yashmak_; but excluding transmission of thought, I could never find any evidence of the kind--have never been able to do so.