tingling
noise of an electric bell.

"As he is asleep." She spoke more quickly and unevenly. "And to-morrow
Doctor Hartley will be here, and I shall go by what he says. If he
wishes a consultation--"

Again the bell sounded. She frowned. Hamza appeared at the door leading
from the deck. He closed the door behind him, crossed the cabin without
noise, opened the farther door, and vanished, shutting it with a swift
gentleness that seemed almost unnatural.

"Then it will be a different matter, and I shall be very glad indeed to
have your opinion. I know its value"--she looked towards the door by
which Hamza had gone out--"but I must treat Doctor Hartley with proper
consideration. And now I must say good night."

Her voice still hurried. Quickly she held out her hand.

"The felucca will take you home. And to-morrow, as soon as Doctor
Hartley has been here and I have had a talk with him and heard what he
thinks, I'll let you know all about it. It's very good of you to
bother."

But Isaacson did not take the outstretched hand.

"Your husband is awake," he said, abruptly.

Her hand dropped.

"I think, I'm sure, that if he knew I was here he would be very glad to
see me. I know you'll tell him, and let him decide for himself."

"But I'm sure he is asleep. I left him asleep."

"That bell--"

She smiled.

"Oh, that wasn't Nigel! That was my French maid. She's very glorified
here. She makes Hamza attend upon her, hand and foot."

As she spoke, Isaacson remembered the words in Nigel's letter: "She
packed off her French maid so as to be quite free."

"Oh, your maid!" he said.

And his voice was colder, firmer.

"Yes."

"But surely it may have been your husband who rang?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm quite sure not. Once Nigel gets off to sleep
he doesn't wake easily."

"But I thought he suffered from insomnia!"

Directly he had said the words, Isaacson realized that he had made a
false step. But it was too late to retrieve it. She was upon him
instantly.

"Why?" she said, sharply. "Why should you think that?"

"You--"

"I never said so! I never said a word of it!"

She remembered the steps Nigel had said he heard when they were together
upon the balcony, and beneath the rouge on her face her cheeks went
grey.

"I never said a word of it!" she reiterated, with her eyes fastened upon
him.

"You spoke of having 'got him off to sleep'--of having 'played him to
sleep.' I naturally gathered that he ha