ave not forgotten thee.'

'I was over there in England and I went blind.'

'But there was the glory first. We heard of it here, even here--I
and Binat; and thou hast used the head of Yellow 'Tina--she is still
alive--so often and so well that 'Tina laughed when the papers arrived
by the mail-boats. It was always something that we here could recognise
in the paintings. And then there was always the glory and the money for
thee.'

'I am not poor--I shall pay you well.'

'Not to me. Thou hast paid for everything.' Under her breath, 'Mon Dieu,
to be blind and so young! What horror!'

Dick could not see her face with the pity on it, or his own with the
discoloured hair at the temples. He did not feel the need of pity; he
was too anxious to get to the front once more, and explained his desire.

'And where? The Canal is full of the English ships. Sometimes they fire
as they used to do when the war was here--ten years ago. Beyond Cairo
there is fighting, but how canst thou go there without a correspondent's
passport? And in the desert there is always fighting, but that is
impossible also,' said she.

'I must go to Suakin.' He knew, thanks to Alf's readings, that Torpenhow
was at work with the column that was protecting the construction of the
Suakin-Berber line. P. and O. steamers do not touch at that port, and,
besides, Madame Binat knew everybody whose help or advice was worth
anything. They were not respectable folk, but they could cause things to
be accomplished, which is much more important when there is work toward.

'But at Suakin they are always fighting. That desert breeds men
always--and always more men. And they are so bold! Why to Suakin?'

'My friend is there.

'Thy friend! Chtt! Thy friend is death, then.'

Madame Binat dropped a fat arm on the table-top, filled Dick's glass
anew, and looked at him closely under the stars. There was no need that
he should bow his head in assent and say--'No. He is a man, but--if it
should arrive... blamest thou?'

'I blame?' she laughed shrilly. 'Who am I that I should blame any
one--except those who try to cheat me over their consommations. But it
is very terrible.'

'I must go to Suakin. Think for me. A great deal has changed within the
year, and the men I knew are not here. The Egyptian lighthouse steamer
goes down the Canal to Suakin--and the post-boats--But even then----'

'Do not think any longer. I know, and it is for me to think. Thou shalt
go--thou shalt