before the felucca arrived in "undoing" her face. She went into her
bedroom, and shut and locked the door.

"The felucca is here suttinly, my lady!"

Ibrahim called from the terrace some ten minutes later; then he came
round to the front of the house, and cried out the words again.

"I shall be down in a moment."

Another ten minutes went by, and then Mrs. Armine appeared. She had an
ivory fly-whisk in her hand, and a white veil was drawn over her face.

"Is everything ready, Ibrahim?"

"Everythin'."

They went to the felucca and crossed the river.

At a point where there was a stretch of flat sandy soil on the western
shore, Hamza, the praying donkey-boy, was calmly waiting with two large
and splendidly groomed donkeys. Mrs. Armine stepped out of the felucca,
helped by Ibrahim, and the felucca at once put off, and began to return
across the Nile. The boatmen sang in deep and almost tragic voices as
they plied the enormous oars. Their voices faded away on the gleaming
waste of water.

Mrs. Armine had stood close to the river listening to them. When the
long diminuendo was drawn back into a monotonous murmur which she could
scarcely hear, she turned round with a sigh; and she had a strange
feeling that a last link which had held her to civilization had snapped,
and that she was now suddenly grasped by the dry, hot hands of Egypt. As
she turned she faced Hamza, who stood immediately before her, motionless
as a statue, with his huge, almond-shaped eyes fixed unsmilingly upon
her.

"May your day be happy!"

He uttered softly and gravely the Arabic greeting. Mrs. Armine thanked
him in English.

Why did she suddenly to-day feel that she lay in the hot breast of
Egypt? Why did she for the first time really feel the intimate spell of
this land--feel it in the warmth that caressed her, in the softness of
the sand that lay beneath her feet, in the little wind that passed like
a butterfly and in the words of Hamza, in his pose, in his look, in his
silence? Why? Was it because she was no longer companioned by Nigel?

On the day of her arrival Nigel had pointed out Hamza to her. Now and
then she had seen him casually, but till to-day she had never looked at
him carefully, with woman's eyes that discern and appraise.

Hamza was of a perfectly different type from Ibrahim's. He was
excessively slight, almost fragile, with little bones, delicate hands
and feet, small shoulders, a narrow head, and a face that was like th