r head.

To silence the scandalmongers her engagement must be made known before
that of the man who had treated her so shamefully; who, if only she had
known, was racing towards her at that very moment as fast as train
could take him.

"Wait for Missie; you shall come to her," she whispered as she knelt
and kissed the dog; "you and Janie."

She sprang to her feet.

What about her promise to her old Nannie? Had she not crossed her
heart and given her word that she would always let her know where she
had gone?

She moved swiftly to the writing-table, took a sheet of paper and
hastily wrote a line; then looked round for some place to leave the
message.

Wellington whimpered as he stood with his fore-feet on the book.

She ran to him and twisted the folded paper into the steel ring of his
collar, hugged him closely, and turned away.

With a lace veil over her head, concealing her face, with the
sable-trimmed cloak wrapped close about her, she slipped from the hotel
without being recognised, and down to the quay.

Almost uncanny is the intuitive power of the native.

Without hesitation, a boatman stepped forward and salaamed to the
ground before her.

"By the sign of the Hawk-headed Harakat."

He repeated the phrase his master had taught him, and which he had
repeated over and over again for many days.

And Damaris never once looked back as the boat crossed the blue-green
Nile, which, for all she knew, would stretch forever, an impassable
barrier, between herself and those she loved.

Acting as in a dream, she could never clearly recall what happened
until she stood at the Gate of To-morrow. She had a vague recollection
of crossing the great river, and of being helped out of the boat, and
of four gigantic Nubians who stood near a litter and salaamed as she
approached; she remembered, too, that the litter was lined and hung
with satin curtains and piled with satin cushions, and that she had
been carried some distance at a gentle trot which had in no wise
disturbed her.

Then it had been gently placed upon the ground, and she had been handed
out, to find the _sayis_ of the stallion Sooltan standing salaaming
before her, with his hand on the bridle of the snow-white mare, Pi-Kay,
the glory of Egypt.

CHAPTER XXVIII

"_He made the pillars thereof of silver, the
bottom thereof of gold, the covering of it of
purple, the midst thereof being paved with
love . . ._"

SONG OF SOLOMO