ithin the confines of truth in her statement, but
having learned in her youth to diagnose the hurt of dumb animals, she
felt she was fully qualified to treat her beloved child's unrest
without any verbal aid from outsiders.

Yet something, a warning from the future, maybe, had prompted her to
speak this night as she stood beside the bed, looking down upon the
beauty of the child to whom she seemed, more than anyone else, to stand
in the position of sponsor.

"Will you promise me one thing, dearie?"

She stroked the red head lovingly as it leant against the motherly
bosom upon which had so often rested errant lambs and stricken pullets.

"Yes, Janie darling. I would promise you anything!"

"I know things are going crosswise a bit with you, dearie, as they
always do in an unknown country; but I don't worry about that, because
at the crossways there is always a signpost. But now that we are in
this heathen land, I want your promise that you will always tell me
where you are going to when you go out--always. If it's out for a ride
in the desert or over amongst them mummy-tombs, or out to a
tennis-party or dance. Will you, dearie? Always?"

The insistence in the demand made the girl look up into the homely face
and she did not smile as she made a little cross above her heart in the
manner of children.

"I promise, Janie--cross heart. And I'm starting out early-early
to-morrow morning on an excursion to the Tombs of the Kings. We are
taking lunch with us--paper-bags and remnants of sandwiches amongst
Egypt's dead--tea at the Rest House and------"

She stopped for a minute, then continued slowly:

"------and if I don't come back with the rest, Janie dear, don't worry.
It's full moon, and I may stay to see the Temple by moonlight."

A moment's silence; then said practical Jane:

"And as you can't take Wellington, dearie, will you promise to take
your revolver? You know, they say lions have been seen in------"

Damaris laughed.

"They've left, Janie! They're all at Assouan, waiting to be shot by
Mr. Kelham and Miss Sidmouth."

Jane Coop sniffed as she tucked in the bed-clothes and kissed her child
good-night.

She had got to the door when Damaris spoke.

"Janie, you know all about birds, don't you?"

"Hens, dearie."

"Well!" The girl's voice came muffled, as though she had drawn the
sheet about her face. "Supposing a hawk------"

"Hawks aren't hens, dearie."

"Well--hens! Supposing you had a