remembered the words
in a letter and other spoken words of an acquaintance in an hotel--and
he was not sure.

The Armines, when they arrived at Luxor, had walked to their villa. When
Isaacson arrived he refused all frantic offers of conveyance, and set
out to walk to his hotel. It was the height of the tourist season, and
Luxor was a centre for travellers. They swarmed, even at this early
hour, in the little town. When Isaacson reached the bank of the Nile he
saw a floating wharf with a big steamer moored against it, on which
Cook's tourists were promenading, breakfasting, leaning over the rail,
calling to and bargaining with smiling brown people on the shore. Beyond
were a smaller mail steamer and a long line of dahabeeyahs flying the
Union Jack, the Stars and Stripes, flags of France, Spain, and other
countries. Donkeys cantered by, bearing agitated or exultant
sight-seers, and pursued by shouting donkey-boys. Against the western
shore, flat and sandy, and melting into the green of crops which, in
their turn, melted into the sterility that holds the ruins of Thebes,
lay more dahabeeyahs, the high, tapering masts of which cut sharply the
crude, unclouded blue of a sky which announced a radiant day. Already,
at a little after nine, the heat was very great. Isaacson revelled in
it. But he longed to take a seven-thonged whip and drive out the happy
travellers. He longed to be alone with the brown children of the Nile.

On the terrace of the Winter Palace Hotel he saw at once people whom he
knew. Within the bay of sand formed by its crescent stood or strolled
throngs of dragomans, and as he approached, one of them, who looked
compact of cunning and guile, detached himself from a group, came up to
him, saluted, and said:

"Good-morning, sir. You want a dahabeeyah? I get you a very good
dahabeeyah. You go on board to-day--not stay at the hotel. One night you
sleep. When morning-time come, we go away from all these noisy peoples,
we go 'mong the Egyptian peoples. Heeyah"--he threw out a brown hand
with fingers curling backward--"heeyah peoples very vulgar, make much
noise. You not at all happy heeyah, my nice gentleman!"

The rascal had read his thought.

"What's your name?"

"Hassan ben Achmed."

"I'll see you later."

Isaacson went up the steps and into the great hotel.

When he had had a bath and made his toilet, he came out into the sun.
For a moment he stood upon the terrace rejoicing, soul and body, in the