eated.

"Hamza!"

Baroudi called, but not loudly. Hamza came in at the door.

Baroudi spoke to him quickly in Arabic. A torrent of words that sounded
angry, as Arabic words do to those from the Western world, rushed out of
his throat. What did they mean? Mrs. Armine did not know. But she did
know that her fate was in them.

Hamza said nothing, only made her a sign to follow him.

But she stood still.

"Baroudi!" she said.

"Go with Hamza," he said, in French.

And she went, without another word, past the girl, and out of the room.

Hamza, with a sign, told her to go in front of him. She went slowly down
the passage, into the first saloon. There she hesitated, looked back.
Hamza signed to her to go on. She passed under the _Loulia's_ motto--for
the last time. On the sailors' deck she paused.

The small felucca of the _Loulia_ was alongside. Hamza took her by the
arm. Although his hand was small and delicate, it seemed to her then a
thing of iron that could not be resisted. She got into the boat. Where
was she going to be taken? It occurred to her now that perhaps Baroudi
had some plan, that he did not choose to keep her on board, that he had
a house at Luxor, or--

The Villa Nuit d'Or! Was Hamza going to take her there in the night?

Hamza sat down, took the oars, pushed off.

Yes, he was rowing up stream against the tide! A wild hope sprang up in
her. The _Loulia_ diminished. Always Hamza was rowing against the tide,
but she noticed that the felucca was drifting out into the middle of the
Nile. The current was very strong. They were making little or no
headway. She longed to seize an oar, to help the boat up stream. Now the
eastern bank of the river grew more distinct, looming out of the
darkness. It seemed to be approaching them, coming stealthily nearer and
nearer. She saw the lights in the Villa Androud.

"Hamza!" she murmured. "Hamza!"

He rowed on, without much force, almost languidly. Never could they go
up against the tide if he did not pull more strongly. Why had they not
two of the Nubians with them? The lights of the villa vanished. They
were hidden by the high and shelving bank.

"Hamza!" she cried out. "Hamza!"

There was a slight shock. The felucca had touched bottom. Hamza, with a
sort of precision characteristic of him, stepped quietly ashore and
signed to her to come.

She knew she would not go. And, instantly, she went.

Directly she stood upon the sand, near the tangle of low bu