he
enjoyed his alert mentality, as an athlete enjoys his power to give a
tremendous blow even if he has just seen a sight that has waked in him
horror.

"Well, then?" she repeated, always speaking in a very low voice, though
not in a whisper.

A cuckoo clock sounded. She sprang up.

"That wretched--!"

She went over to the clock, tore the little door in the front out,
inserted her fingers in the opening. There was a dry sound of tearing
and splintering. She came back with minute drops of blood on her
fingers.

"It drives Nigel mad!" she said. "It ought to have been stopped long
ago. You got my note, and I your answer."

"And of course you think that I ought not to have come to-night."

She looked at him and sat down again. And by the way of her sitting down
he knew that she had come to a decision as to conduct.

"I suppose you felt uneasy, and thought you would like to enquire a
little more of me. Was that it?"

"I did feel a little uneasy, I confess."

"How did you come to-night?"

"I walked."

"Walked? Alone?"

"Quite alone."

"All that way! I'll send you back in the felucca."

"Oh, that will be all right."

"No, no, you shall have the felucca."

She touched an electric bell. Hamza came.

"The felucca, Hamza."

"Yes."

He went.

"They'll get it ready."

She moved some cushions. Isaacson noticed a yellowish tinge about her
temples, just beyond the corners of her eyes above the cheek-bones. Most
of her face was not made up, though there were one or two dabs of powder
as well as the rouge.

"They'll get it ready in a moment," she repeated.

She turned towards him, smiling suddenly.

"And so you felt uneasy, and thought you'd hear a little more, and came
at night so as not to startle or disturb him. That was good of you. The
fact is, I didn't tell him I had met you to-day. I intended to, but when
I got here I gave up the idea."

"Why was that?"

"He'd been reading all the notices about Harwich, and they'd utterly
upset him."

Suddenly she noticed the tiny drops of blood on her fingers.

"Oh!" she said.

She put her hand up to the front of her gown, drew out a handkerchief,
and pressed her fingers with it.

"How stupid of me!"

Hamza appeared.

"Ah, the felucca is ready!" said Mrs. Armine.

Isaacson leaned back quietly, and made himself comfortable on the broad
divan.

"In a minute, Hamza!" she said.

Hamza went away.

"That's a marvellous fellow you've got," said Isa