ity of his embassy. Then he came on to the later time, after the
marriage and the departure, when he received his friend's letter
describing his happiness and his wonderful health, when he received soon
afterwards that other letter from the lady patient, speaking of Nigel's
"extraordinary colour." He told how in London he had put those letters
side by side and had compared them, and how some strong instinct of
trouble and danger had driven him, almost against his will, to Egypt,
had bound him to silence about his arrival. Then on the terrace at
Shepheard's an acquaintance casually met had increased his fears. And
so, in his quick, terse, unembroidered narrative, almost frightfully
direct, he reached the scene in the temple of Edfou. From that moment he
spared Nigel no detail. He described Mrs. Armine's obvious terror at his
appearance; her lies, her omission to tell him her husband was ill until
she realized that he--Isaacson--had already heard of the illness in
Luxor; her pretence that his dangerous malady was only a slight
indisposition caused by grief at the death of Lord Harwich; her endeavor
to prevent Isaacson from coming on board the _Loulia_; the note she had
sent by the felucca; his walk by night on the river bank till he came to
the dahabeeyah, his eavesdropping, and how the words he overheard
decided him to insist on seeing Nigel; the interview with Mrs. Armine in
the saloon, and how he had forced his way, by a stratagem, to the after
part of the vessel. Then he told of the contest with Doctor Hartley,
already influenced by Mrs. Armine, and of the final victory, won--how?
By a threat, which could only have frightened a guilty woman.

"I told Mrs. Armine that either I took charge of your case or that I
communicated with the police authorities. Then, and only then, she gave
way. She let me come on board to nurse you back to life."

"How could you have known?" Nigel exclaimed, with intensely bitter
defiance, when at last a pause came. "Even if it had been true, how
could you have known?"

"I did not know. I suspected. To save you, I drew a bow at a venture,
and I hit the mark. Your illness has been caused by the administration,
through a long period of time, of minute doses of some preparation of
lead--almost impalpable doubtless, perhaps not to be distinguished from
the sand that is blown from the desert. And Mrs. Armine either herself
gave or caused it to be given to you."

"Liar! Liar!"

"Did she ever he