he
harbour, constituted a picture that was as full of interest as it was of
new impressions.

As soon as we were at anchor and the necessary formalities of the port
had been complied with, Pharos's servant, the man who had accompanied us
from Pompeii and who had brought me on board in Naples, made his way
ashore, whence he returned in something less than an hour to inform us
that he had arranged for a special train to convey us to our
destination. We accordingly bade farewell to the yacht and were driven
to the railway-station, a primitive building on the outskirts of the
town. Here an engine and a single carriage awaited us. We took our
places and five minutes later were steaming across the flat sandy plain
that borders the Canal and separates it from the Bitter Lakes.

Ever since the storm, and the unpleasant insight it had afforded me into
Pharos's character, our relations had been somewhat strained. As the
Fraeulein Valerie had predicted, as soon as he recovered his
self-possession, he hated me the more for having been a witness of his
cowardice. For the remainder of the voyage he scarcely put in an
appearance on deck, but spent the greater portion of his time in his own
cabin, though in what manner he occupied himself there I could not
imagine.

Now that we were in our railway carriage, _en route_ to Cairo, looking
out upon that dreary landscape, with its dull expanse of water on one
side, and the high bank of the Canal, with, occasionally, glimpses of
the passing stations, on the other, we were brought into actual contact,
and, in consequence, things improved somewhat. But even then we could
scarcely have been described as a happy party. The Fraeulein Valerie sat
for the most part silent and preoccupied, facing the engine in the
right-hand corner; Pharos, wrapped in his heavy fur coat and rug, and
with his inevitable companion cuddled up beside him, had taken his place
opposite her. I sat in the farther corner, watching them both and dimly
wondering at the strangeness of my position. At Ismailia another train
awaited us, and when we and our luggage had been transshipped to it, we
continued our journey, entering now on the region of the desert proper.
The heat was almost unbearable, and to make matters worse, as soon as
darkness fell and the lamps were lighted, swarms of mosquitoes emerged
from their hiding-places and descended upon us. The train rolled and
jolted its way over the sandy plain, passed the battle-