n rose, and, since the statues would not speak, I took my
harp and played upon it, and Martina sang a wild Eastern song to my
playing. It seemed that our music was heard. At any rate, a few folk
going out to labour came to see by whom it was caused, and finding only
two wandering musicians, presently went away again. Still, one remained,
a woman, Coptic by her dress, with whom I heard Martina talk. She
asked who we were and why we had come to such a place, whereon Martina
repeated to her the story which we had told a hundred times. The woman
answered that we should earn little money in those parts, as the famine
had been sore there owing to the low Nile of the previous season. Until
the crops were ripe again, which in the case of most of them would not
be for some weeks, even food, she added, must be scarce, though few were
left to eat it, since the Moslems had killed out most of those who dwelt
in that district of Upper Egypt.

Martina replied that she knew this was so, and therefore we had proposed
either to travel on to Nubia or to return north. Still, as I, her blind
uncle, was not well, we had landed from a boat hoping that we might find
some place where we could rest for a week or two until I grew stronger.

"Yet," she continued meaningly, "being poor Christian folk we know not
where to look for such a place, since Cross worshippers are not welcome
among those who follow the Prophet."

Now, when the woman heard that we were Christians her voice changed. "I
also am a Christian," she said; "but give me the sign."

So we made the sign of the Cross on our breasts, which a Moslem will die
rather than do.

"My husband and I," went on the woman, "live yonder at the village of
Kurna, which is situated near to the mouth of the valley that is called
Biban-el-Meluk, or Gate of the Kings, for there the monarchs of old
days, who were the forefathers or rulers of us Copts, lie buried. It is
but a very small village, for the Moslems have killed most of us in a
war that was raised a while ago between them and our hereditary prince,
Magas. Yet my husband and I have a good house there, and, being poor,
shall be glad to give you food and shelter if you can pay us something."

The end of it was that after some chaffering, for we dared not show that
we had much money, a bargain was struck between us and this good woman,
who was named Palka. Having paid her a week's charges in advance, she
led us to the village of Kurna, which was