The PALACE of DARKENED WINDOWS

ByMARY HASTINGS BRADLEY

AUTHOR OF "THE FAVOR OF KINGS"

ILLUSTRATED BY EDMUND FREDERICK

NEW YORK AND LONDOND. APPLETON AND COMPANY1914

 [Frontispiece illustration: "'It is no use, ' he repeated. 'There is no way out for you. '" (Chapter IV)]

TOMY HUSBAND

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. THE EAVESDROPPER II. THE CAPTAIN CALLS III. AT THE PALACE IV. A SORRY QUEST V. WITHIN THE WALLS VI. A GIRL IN THE BAZAARS VII. BILLY HAS HIS DOUBTS VIII. THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR IX. A DESPERATE GAME X. A MAID AND A MESSAGE XI. OVER THE GARDEN WALL XII. THE GIRL FROM THE HAREM XIII. TAKING CHANCES XIV. IN THE ROSE ROOM XV. ON THE TRAIL XVI. THE HIDDEN GIRL XVII. AT BAY XVIII. DESERT MAGIC XIX. THE PURSUIT XX. A FRIEND IN NEED XXI. CROSS PURPOSES XXII. UPON THE PYLON XXIII. THE BETTER MAN

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"'It is no use, ' he repeated. 'There is no way out for you'" _Frontispiece_

"'I do not want to stay here'"

"He found himself staring down into the bright dark eyes of a girl he had never seen"

"Billy went to the mouth, peering watchfully out"

THE PALACE OF DARKENED WINDOWS

CHAPTER I

THE EAVESDROPPER

A one-eyed man with a stuffed crocodile upon his head paused beforethe steps of Cairo's gayest hotel and his expectant gaze rangedhopefully over the thronged verandas. It was afternoon tea time; theband was playing and the crowd was at its thickest and brightest. The little tables were surrounded by travelers of all nations, somein tourist tweeds and hats with the inevitable green veils; others, those of more leisurely sojourns, in white serges and diaphanousfrocks and flighty hats fresh from the Rue de la Paix. 

It was the tweed-clad groups that the crocodile vender scanned for apurchaser of his wares and harshly and unintelligibly exhorted tobuy, but no answering gaze betokened the least desire to bring backa crocodile to the loved ones at home. Only Billy B. Hill grinneddelightedly at him, as Billy grinned at every merry sight of thespectacular East, and Billy shook his head with cheerfulconvincingosity, so the crocodile merchant moved reluctantly onbefore the importunities of the Oriental rug peddler at his heels. 

Then he stopped. His turbaned head, topped by the grotesque, glassy-eyed, glistening-toothed monster, revolved slowly as theArab's single eye steadily followed a couple who passed by him upthe hotel steps. Billy, struck by the man's intense interest, cranedforward and saw that one of the couple, now exchanging farewells atthe top of the steps, was a girl, a pretty girl, and an American, and the other was an officer in a uniform of considerable green andgold, and obviously a foreigner. 

He might be any kind of a foreigner, according to Billy's laxdistinctions, that was olive of complexion and very black of hairand eyes. Slender and of medium height, he carried himself with anassurance that bordered upon effrontery, and as he bowed himselfdown the steps he flashed upon his former companion a smile oftriumph that included and seemed to challenge the verandaful ofobservers. 

The girl turned and glanced casually about at the crowded groupsthat were like little samples of all the nations of the earth, andwith no more than a faint awareness of the battery of eyes upon hershe passed toward the tables by the railing. She was a slim littlefairy of a girl, as fresh as a peach blossom, with a cloud of palegold hair fluttering round her pretty face, which lent her a mostalluring and deceptive appearance of ethereal mildness. She had asoft, satiny, rose-leaf skin which was merely flushed by the heat ofthe Egyptian day, and her eyes were big and very, very blue. Therewere touches of that blue here and there upon her creamy linen suit, and a knot of blue upon her parasol and a twist of blue about herPanama hat, so that she could not be held unconscious of theflagrantly bewitching effect. Altogether she was as upsettinglypretty a young person as could be seen in a year's journey, and theglances of the beholders brightened vividly at her approach. 

There was one conspicuous exception. This exception was sittingalone at the large table which backed Billy's tiny table into acorner by the railing, and as the girl arrived at that large tablethe exception arose and greeted her with an air of glacial chill. 

"Oh! Am I so terribly late?" said the girl with great pleasantness, and arched brows of surprise at the two other places at the tablebefore which used tea things were standing. 

"My sister and Lady Claire had an appointment, so they were obligedto have their tea and leave, " stated the young man, with an air ofpolitely endeavoring to conceal his feelings, and failingconspicuously in the endeavor. "They were most sorry. "

"Oh, so am I!" declared the girl, in clear and contrite tones whichcarried perfectly to Billy B. Hill's enchanted ears. "I neverdreamed they would have to hurry away. "

"They did not hurry, as you call it, " and the young man glanced athis watch, "for nearly an hour. It was a disappointment to them. "

"Pin-pate!" thought Billy, with intense disgust. "Is he kicking at atwo-some?"

"And have you had your tea, too?" inquired the girl, with an air oftantalizing unconcern. 

"I waited, naturally, for my guest. "

"Oh, not _naturally_!" she laughed. "It must be very unnatural foryou to wait for anything. And you must be starving. So am I--do youthink there are enough cakes left for the two of us?"

Without directly replying, the young man gave the order to thered-fezzed Arab in a red-girdled white robe who was removing thesoiled tea things, and he assisted the girl into a chair and satdown facing her. Their profiles were given to the shameless Billy, and he continued his rapt observations. 

He had immediately recognized the girl as a vision he had seenfluttering around the hotel with an incongruously dismalcouple of unyouthful ladies, and he had mentally affixed amagnate's-only-daughter-globe-trotting-with-elderly-friends label toher. 

The young man he could not place so definitely. There were a goodmany tall, aristocratic young Englishmen about, with slight stoopsand incipient moustaches. This particular Englishman had hair thatwas pronouncedly sandy, and Billy suddenly recollected that inlunching at the Savoy the other day he had noticed that youngEnglishman in company with a sandy-haired lady, not so young, and adecidedly pretty dark-haired girl--it was the girl, of course, whohad fixed the group in Billy's crowded impressions. He decided thatthese ladies were the sister and Lady Claire--and Lady Claire, hejudiciously concluded, certainly had nothing on young America. 

Young America was speaking. "Don't look so thunderous!" shecomplained to her irate host. "How do you know I didn't plan to belate so as to have you all to myself?"

This was too derisive for endurance. A dull red burned through thetan on the young Englishman's cheeks and crept up to meet thecorresponding warmth of his hair. A leash within him snapped. 

"It is simply inconceivable!" burst from him, and then he shut hisjaw hard, as if only one last remnant of will power kept a seethingvolcano, from explosion. 

"What is?"

"How any girl--in Cairo, of all places!" he continued to explode inlittle snorts. 

"You are speaking of--?" she suggested. 

"Of your walking with that fellow--in broad daylight!"

"Would it have been better in the gloaming?"

The sweet restraint in the young thing's manner was supernatural. Itwas uncanny. It should have warned the red-headed young man, butoblivious of danger signals, he was plunging on, full steam ahead. 

"It isn't as if you didn't know--hadn't been warned. "

"You have been so kind, " the girl murmured, and poured a cup of teathe Arab had placed at her elbow. 

The young man ignored his. The color burned hotter and hotter in hisface. Even his hair looked redder. 

"The look he gave up here was simply outrageous--a grin of insolenttriumph. I'd like to have laid my cane across him!"

The girl's cup clicked against the saucer. "You are horrid!" shedeclared. "When we were on shipboard Captain Kerissen was verypopular among the passengers and I talked with him whenever I caredto. Everyone did. Now that I am in his native city I see no reasonto stalk past him when we happen to be going in the same direction. He is a gentleman of rank, a relative of the Khedive who is rulingthis country--under your English advice--and he is----"

"A Turk!" gritted out the young man. 

"A Turk and proud of it! His mother was French, however, and he waseducated at Oxford and he is as cosmopolitan as any man I ever met. It's unusual to meet anyone so close to the reigning family, and itgives one a wonderful insight into things off the beaten track----"

"The beaten--damn!" said the young man, and Billy's heart went outto him. "Oh, I beg pardon, but you--he--I--" So many things occurredto him to say at one and the same time that he emitted a snort ofwarring and incoherent syllables. Finally, with supreme control, "Doyou know that your 'gentleman of rank' couldn't set foot in agentleman's club in this country?"

"I think it's _mean_!" retorted the girl, her blue eyes very brightand indignant. "You English come here and look down on even thehighest members of the country you are pretending to assist. Why doyou? When he was at Oxford he went into your English homes. "

"English madhouses--for admitting him. "

A brief silence ensued. 

The girl ate a cake. It was a nice cake, powdered with almonds, butshe ate it obliviously. The angry red shone rosily in her cheeks. 

The young man took a hasty drink of his tea, which had grown coldin its cup, and pushed it away. Obstinately he rushed on in his madcareer. 

"I simply cannot understand you!" he declared. 

"Does it matter?" said she, and bit an almond's head off. 

"It would be bad enough, in any city, but in Cairo--! To permit himto insult you with his company, alone, upon the streets!"

"When you have said insult you have said a little too much, " shereturned in a small, cold voice of war. "Is there anything againstCaptain Kerissen personally?"

"Who knows anything about any of those fellows? They are allalike--with half a dozen wives locked up behind their barredwindows. "

"He isn't married. "

"How do you know?"

"I--inferred it. "

The Englishman snorted: "According to his custom, you know, it isn'tthe proper thing to mention his ladies in public. "

"You are frightfully unjust. Captain Kerissen's customs are thecustoms of the civilized world, and he is very anxious to have hiscountry become modernized. "

"Then let him send his sisters out walking with fellow officers. .. . For _him_ to walk beside _you_----"

"He was following the custom of my country, " said the girl, withmaddening superiority. "Since I am an _American_ girl----"

The young Englishman said a horrible thing. He said it with immensefeeling. 

"American goose!" he uttered, then stopped short. Precipitately hefloundered into explanation:

"I beg your pardon, but, you know, when you say such bally nonsenseas that--! An American girl has no more business to be imprudentthan a Patagonian girl. You have no idea how these peopleregard----"

"Oh, don't apologize, " murmured the girl, with charming sweetness. "I don't mind what you say--not in the least. "

The outraged man was not so befuddled but what he saw those dangersignals now. They glimmered scarlet upon his vision, but his bloodwas up and he plunged on to destruction with the extraordinaryremark, "But isn't there a reason why you should?"

She gazed at him in mock reflection, as if mulling this strikingthought presented for her consideration, but her eyes were toosparkly and her cheeks too poppy-pink to substantiate the reflectivepose. 

"N-no, " she said at last, with an impertinent little drawl. "I can'tseem to think of any. "

He did not pause for innuendo. "You mean you don't give a _piastre_what I think?"

"Not half a _piastre_, " she confirmed, in flat defiance. 

The young man looked at her. He was over the brink of ruin now;nothing remained of the interesting little affair of the past threeweeks but a mangled and lamentable wreck at the bottom of a deepabyss. 

Perhaps a shaft of compunction touched her flinty soul at the sightof his aghast and speechless face, for she had the grace to lookaway. Her gaze encountered the absorbed and excited countenance ofBilly B. Hill, and the poppy-pink of her cheeks became poppy-redand she turned her head sharply away. She rose, catching up hergloves and parasol. 

"Thank you so much for your tea, " she said in a lowered tone to herunfortunate host. "I've had a delicious time. .. . I'm sorry if Idisappointed you by not cowering before your disapproval. Oh, don'tbother to come in with me--I know my way to the lift and the band isgoing to play God Save the King and they need you to stand up andmake a showing. "

Billy B. Hill stared across at the abandoned young man with supremesympathy and intimate understanding. He was a nice and right-mindedyoung man and she was an utter minx. She was the daughter ofunreason and the granddaughter of folly. She needed, emphaticallyneeded, to be shown. But this Englishman, with his harsh andviolently antagonizing way of putting things, was clearly not theman for the need. It took a lighter touch--the hand of iron in thevelvet glove, as it were. It took a keener spirit, a softer humor. 

Billy threw out his chest and drew himself up to his full five feeteleven and one-half inches, as he passed indoors and sought thehotel register, for he felt within himself the true equipment forthat delicate mission. He fairly panted to be at it. 

Fate was amiable. The hotel clerk, coerced with a couple ofgold-banded ones with the real fragrance, permitted Billy to learnthat the blue-eyed one's name was Beecher, Arlee Beecher, and thatshe was in the company of two ladies entitled Mrs. And MissEversham. The Miss Eversham was quite old enough to be entitledotherwise. They were occupied, the clerk reported, with nerves anddissatisfaction. Miss Beecher appeared occupied in part--with acorrespondence that would swamp a foreign office. 

 * * * * *

Now it is always a question whether being at the same hotel does ordoes not constitute an introduction. Sometimes it does; sometimes itdoes not. When the hotel is a small and inexpensive arrangement inSwitzerland, where the advertised view of the Alpenglühen isobtained by placing the chairs in a sociable circle on the sidewalk, then usually it does. When the hotel is a large and expensive affairin gayest Cairo, where the sunny and shady side rub elbows, andgamesters and débutantes and touts and school teachers and vividladies of conspicuous pasts and stout gentlemen of exhilaratedpresents abound, in fact where innocent sightseers and initiatedtraffickers in human frailties are often indistinguishable, thendecidedly it does not. 

But fate, still smiling, dropped a silver shawl in Billy's path ashe was trailing his prey through the lounge after dinner. The shawlbelonged, most palpably, to a German lady three feet ahead of him, but gripping it triumphantly, he bounded over the six feet whichseparated him from the Eversham-Beecher triangle and with marvelousself-restraint he touched Miss Eversham on the arm. 

"You dropped this?" he inquired. 

Miss Eversham looked surprisedly at Billy and uncertainly at theshawl, which she mechanically accepted. "Why I--I didn't rememberhaving it with me, " she hesitated. 

"I noticed you were wearing one other evenings, " said Billy, theArtful, "so I thought----"

"You know whether this is yours or not, don't you, Clara?"interposed the mother. 

"They all look alike, " murmured Clara Eversham, eying helplessly thesilver border. 

Billy permitted himself to look at Miss Beecher. That young personwas looking at him and there was a disconcerting gaiety in herexpression, but at sight of him she turned her head, faintlycoloring. He judged she recalled his unmannerly eavesdropping thatafternoon. 

"Pardon--excuse me--but that is to me belonging, " panted an agitatedbut firm voice behind them, and two stout and beringed hands seizedupon the glittering shawl in Miss Eversham's lax grasp. "It but justnow off me falls, " and the German lady looked belligerent accusationupon the defrauding Billy. 

There was a round of apologetic murmurs, unacknowledged by therecipient, who plunged away with her shawl, as if fearing furtherdesigns upon it. Billy laughed down at the Evershams. 

"I feel like a porch climber making off with her belongings. But Ihad seen you with----"

"I do think I had mine this evening, after all, " murmured Clara, with a questioning glance after the departing one. 

"An uncultured person!" stated Mrs. Eversham. 

Miss Beecher said nothing at all. Her faint smile was mockinglyderisive. 

"Anyway you must let me get you some coffee, " Billy mostinconsequentially suggested, beckoning to the red-girdled Mohammedwith his laden tray, and because he was young and nice looking andevidently a gentleman from their part of the world and his eveningclothes fitted perfectly and had just the right amount of braid, Mrs. Eversham made no objection to the circle of chairs he hastilycollected about a taborette, and let him hand them their coffee andsend Mohammed for the cream which Miss Eversham declared wasindispensable for her health. 

"If I take it clear I find it keeps me awake, " she confided, andBilly deplored that startling and lamentable circumstance, andpassed Mrs. Eversham the sugar and wondered if they could be thePhiladelphia Evershams of whom he had heard his mother speak, andregretted that they were not, for then they would know who hewas--William B. Hill of Alatoona, New York. He found it ratherstupid traveling alone. Of course one met many Americans, but----

Mrs. Eversham took up that "but" most eagerly, and recountedmultiple and deplorable instances of nasal countrywomen doing theEast and monopolizing the window seats in compartments, and MissEversham supplied details and corrections. 

Still Miss Beecher said nothing. She had a dreamy air of notbelonging to the conversationalists. But from an inscrutablesomething in her appearance, Billy judged she was not unentertainedby his sufferings. 

At the first pause he addressed her directly. "And how do you likeCairo?" was his simple question. That ought, he reflected, to be anentering wedge. 

The young lady did not trouble to raise her eyes. "Oh, very much, "said she negligently, sipping her coffee. 

"Oh, very well!" said Billy haughtily to himself. If being herfellow countryman in a strange land, and obviously a young andcultivated countryman whom it would be a profit and pleasure for anygirl to know, wasn't enough for her--what was the use? He ought toget up and go away. He intended to get up and go away--immediately. 

But he didn't. Perhaps it was the shimmery gold hair, perhaps it wasthe flickering mischief of the downcast lashes, perhaps it was theloveliness of the soft, white throat and slenderly rounded arms. Anyway he stayed. And when the strain of waltz music sounded throughthe chatter of voices about them and young couples began to strollto the long parlors, Billy jumped to his feet with a devastatingdesire that totally ignored the interminable wanderings of ClaraEversham's complaints. 

"Will you dance this with me?" he besought of Miss Arlee Beecher, with a direct gaze more boyishly eager than he knew. 

For an agonizing moment she hesitated. Then, "I think I will, " sheconcluded, with sudden roguery in her smile. 

Stammering a farewell to the Evershams, he bore her off. 

It would be useless to describe that waltz. It was one of theecstatic moments which Young Joy sometimes tosses from her garlandedarms. It was one of the sudden, vivid, unforgettable delights whichmakes youth a fever and a desire. For Billy it was the wildest stabthe sex had ever dealt him. For though this was perhaps the ninethousand nine hundred and ninety-ninth girl with whom he had danced, it was as if he had discovered music and motion and girls for thefirst time. 

The music left them by the windows. 

"Thank you, " said Billy under his breath. 

"You didn't deserve it, " said the girl, with a faint smile playingabout the corners of her lips. "You know you stared--scandalously. "

Grateful that she mentioned only the lesser sin, "Could I help it?"he stammered, by way of a finished retort. 

The smile deepened, "And I'm afraid you listened!"

He stared down at her anxiously. "Will you like me better if Ididn't?" he inquired. 

"I shan't like you at all if you did. "

"Then I didn't hear a word. .. . Besides, " he basely uttered, "youwere entirely in the right!"

"I should think I was!" said Arlee Beecher very indignantly. "Thevery notion--! Captain Kerissen is a very nice young man. He isgoing to get me an invitation to the Khedive's ball. "

"Is that a very crumby affair?"

"Crumby? It's simply gorgeous! Everyone is mad over it. Mosttourists simply read about it, and it is too perfect luck to beinvited! Only the English who have been presented at court areinvited and there's a girl at the Savoy Hotel I've met--Lady ClaireMontfort--who wasn't presented because she was in mourning for hergrandmother last year, and she is simply furious about it. An olddowager here said that there ought to be similar distinctions amongthe Americans--that only those who had been presented at the WhiteHouse ought to be recognized. Fancy making the White House a socialdistinction!" laughed the daughter of the Great Republic. 

"I wonder, " said Billy, "if I met a nice Turkish lady, whether shewould get me an invitation? Then we could have another waltz----"

"There aren't any Turkish ladies there, " uttered Miss Beecherrebukingly. "Don't you know that? When they are on theContinent--those that are ever taken there--they may go to dancesand things, but here they can't, although some of them are just asmodern as you or I, I've heard, and lots more educated. "

"You speak, " he protested, "from a superficial acquaintance with myacademic accomplishments. "

"Are you so very--proficient?"

"I was--I am Phi Beta Kappa, " he sadly confessed. 

Her laugh rippled out. "You don't look it, " she cheered. 

"Oh, no, I don't look it, " he complacently agreed. "That's the lampin the gloom. But I am. I couldn't help it. I was curious aboutthings and I studied about them and faculties pressed honors uponme. I am even here upon a semi-learned errand. I wanted to have alook at the diggings a friend of mine is making at Thebes andseveral looks at the dam at Assouan, for I am by way of being anengineer myself--a beginning engineer. "

"You have been up the Nile, then?"

"Yes, I'm just back. Now I'm going to see something of Cairo beforeI leave. "

"We start up the Nile day after to-morrow, " said she. 

"The day after--" he stopped. 

'Twas ever thus. Fate never did one good turn but she sneaked backand jabbed him unawares. She was a tricksy jade. 

"That's--that's gloomy luck, " said Billy, and felt outraged. "Why, how about that Khedive ball thing?"

"Oh, that's when we come back. "

She was coming back, then. Hope lifted her head. 

"When will that be?"

"In three weeks. It takes about three weeks to go up to the firstcataract and back, doesn't it?"

"Yes, by boat, " he said, adding hopefully, "but lots of people likethe express trains better. They--they don't keep you so long on theway. "

"Oh, I hate trains, " said she cheerfully. 

Three weeks . .. Ruefully he surveyed the desolation. "I ought to begone by then, " he muttered. 

A trifle startled, the girl looked up at him. As he was not lookingat her, but staring moodily into what was then black vacancy, herlook lingered and deepened. She saw a most bronzed and hardy lookingyoung man, tall and broad-shouldered, with gray eyes, wide apartunder straight black brows, and black hair brushed straight backfrom a wide forehead. She saw a rugged nose, a likeable mouth, andan abrupt and aggressive chin, saved somehow from grimness by a deepcleft in the blunt end of it. .. . She thought he was a very_stirring_ looking young man. Undoubtedly he was a very suddenyoung man--if he meant one bit of what he intimated. 

Feminine-wise, she mocked. 

"What a calamity!"

"Yes, for me, " said Billy squarely. "You know it's--it's awfullyjolly to meet a girl from home out here!"

"A girl from _home_----!"

"Well, all America seems home from this place. And I shouldn't besurprised if we knew a lot of the same people . .. You can get a goodline on me that way, you know, " he laughed. "Now I went to Williamsand then to Boston Tech. , and there must be acquaintances----"

"Don't!" said Arlee, with a laughing gesture of prohibition. "Weprobably have thousands of the same acquaintances, and you wouldturn out to be some one I knew everything about--perhaps the firstfiancé of my roommate whose letters I used to help her answer. "

"Where did you go to school?"

"At Elm Court School, near New York. For just a year. "

He shook his head with an air of relief. "Never was engaged toanybody's roommate there. .. . But if you'd rather not have mybackground painted----"

"_Much_ rather not, " said the girl gaily. "Why, half the romance, Imean the fun, of meeting people abroad is _not_ knowing anythingabout them beforehand. "

The music was beginning again. Unwillingly the remembrance of theouter world beat back into Billy's mind. Unhappily he became awarethat the room appeared blackened with young men in evening clothes, staring ominously his way. 

Squarely he stood in front of the girl. "I think this is the encoreto our dance, " he told her with a little smile. 

She shook her pretty head laughingly at him--and then yielded to hisclasping hands. "But we must dance back to the Evershams, " shedemurred. "It is time for us to go to our concert. "

But Billy had no intention of relinquishing her before the musicceased. It was a one step, and it carried them with it in a gaietyof rhythm to which the girl gave herself with the light-heartedabandon of a romping child. Her light feet seemed scarcely to brushthe floor; the delicate flush of her cheeks deepened with thestirring blood; her lips parted breathlessly over white littleteeth, and when her eyes, intensely blue, met Billy's, the smile inthem quickened in sparkling radiance. She was the very spirit of thedance; she was Youth and Joy incarnate. And the heart behind thewhite shirt bosom near which her fairy hair was floating began topitch and toss like a laboring ship in the very devil of a sea. 

"I think I'll go up the Nile again, " said Billy irrelevantly. 

She laughed elfishly at him, her head swaying faintly with therhythm. 

"Three weeks, " said Billy under his breath, "that's twenty-onedays--at ten dollars a day. Now I wonder how many hours--ormoments--that rash outlay would assure?"

"You miser! You calculating----"

"You have to calculate--when you're an engineer. "

"But to be sure spoils the charm! Now I--I do things on impulse. "

"If you will only have the impulse to dance with me--on theNile----"

"Why not risk it?" she challenged lightly, arrant mischief in hereyes. She added, in mocking tone, "There's a moon. "

"That's a clincher, " said he, with an air of decision. A faintquestion dwelt in the look she gave him. It was ridiculous to thinkhe meant anything he was saying, but--she felt suddenly a littleconfused and shy under that light-hearted young gaiety which tookevery man's friendly admiration happily for granted. 

In silence they finished the dance, and this time the music failedthem when they were near the wide entrance to the room where theEvershams, beckoning specters, were standing. 

"I'm keeping them waiting, " said the girl, with a note of concernwhich she had not shown over her performance in that line earlier inthe day. But Billy had no time for humorous comparisons. 

"When can I see you again?" he demanded bluntly. "Can I see youto-morrow?"

"To-morrow is a very busy day, " she parried. 

"But the evening----?"

"I shall be here, " she admitted. 

"And could I--could I take you--and the Evershams, ofcourse--somewhere, anywhere, you'd like to go? If there's any otherconcert----"

She shook her head. "We leave bright and early the next morning, andI know Mrs. Eversham will want her rest. I think they would ratherstay here in the hotel after dinner. "

"But you will keep a little time for me?" Billy urged. "Of course, staying in the same hotel, I can't take my hat and go and make aformal call on you--but that's the result I'm after. "

They had paused, to finish this colloquy, a few feet away from theladies, who were regarding with dark suspicion this interchange oflowered tones. 

Suddenly Arlee raised her eyes and gave Billy a quick look, questioning, shyly serious. 

"I shall be here--and you can call on me, " she promised, and badehim farewell. 

She left him deliriously, inexplicably, foolishly in spirits. Heplunged his hands in his pockets and squared his shoulders; hewanted to whistle, he wanted to sing, he wanted to do anything tovent the singular hilarity which possessed him. 

Then he saw, across the room, a sandy-haired young man regarding himwith dour intentness, and the spectacle, instead of feeding his joy, sent conjecturing chills down his spine. His bubble was pricked. Suppose, ran the horrid thought, suppose she was simply paying offthe Englishman? Girls, even blue-eyed, angel-haired girls ofcherubic aspect, have not been unknown to perform such deeds ofdarkness! And this particular girl had mischief in her eyes. .. . Thethought was unpleasantly likely. What had he, Billy B. Hill, of NewYork--State--to offer to casual view worthy of competition with thepresumable advantages of a young Englishman whose sister was stayingwith a Lady Claire? Perhaps the fellow himself had a title. .. . 

Considerably dashed, he went out to consult the register upon thatpoint. 

CHAPTER II

THE CAPTAIN CALLS

Now, when the card of Captain Kerissen was handed to Miss ArleeBeecher the next afternoon, when she sauntered in from the sunnyout-of-doors and paused at the desk for the voluminous harvest ofletters the last mail had brought, and furthermore the informationwas added that the Captain was waiting, little Miss Beecher's firstthought was the resentful appreciation that the Captain wasoverdoing it. 

She hesitated, then, with her hands full of letters and parasol, shecrossed the hall into the reception room. She intended to let hercaller see his mistake, so with her burdened hands avoiding ahandclasp, she greeted him and stood waiting, with eyes of inquiryupon him. 

The young man smiled secretly to himself. He was a young man notwithout experience in ladies' moods and he had a very shrewd ideathat somebody had been making remarks, but he did not permit a hintof any perception of the coolness of her manner to impair theimpeccable suavity of his. 

"Will you accord me two moments of your time that I may give youtwo messages?" he inquired, and Arlee felt suddenly ill-bred beforehis gentle courtesy and she sat down abruptly upon the edge of thenearest chair. 

The Captain placed one near her and seated himself, with a clank ofhis dangling scabbard. He was really a very handsome young man, though his features were too finely finished to please a robusttaste, and there was a hint of insolence and cruelty about the noseand mouth--though this an inexperienced and light-hearted youngtourist of one and twenty did not more than vaguely perceive. 

"They are, the both, of the ball of the Khedive, " he continued inhis English, which was, though amazingly fluent and ready, a literalsounding translation of the French, which was in reality his mothertongue. "My sister thinks she can arrange that invitation. You aresure that you will be returned at Cairo, then?"

"Oh, dear, yes! I would come back by train, " Arlee declared eagerly, "rather than miss that wonderful ball!"

She thought how astonished a certain red-headed young Englishmanwould be to see her at that ball, and how fortunate she was comparedto his haughty and disappointed friend, the Lady Claire, and thechill of her resentment against the Captain's intrusion vanishedlike snow in the warmth of her gratitude. 

"Good!" He smiled at her with a flash of white teeth. "Then mysister herself will see one of the household of the Khedive andrequest the invitation for you and for your chaperon, theMadame----"

"Eversham. "

"Eversham. She will be included for you, but not the daughter--no?"

"Is that asking too much?" said Arlee hesitantly. "Miss Evershamwould feel badly to be left out. .. . But, anyway, I'm not sure that Ishall be with them then, " she reflected. 

"Not with them?" The young man leaned forward, his eyes curiouslyintent upon her. 

"No, I may be with some other friends. You see, it's this way--Ididn't come abroad with the Evershams in the first place. I came inthe fall with a school friend and her mother to see Italy. TheEvershams were friends of theirs and were stopping at the samehotel, and since my friends were called back very suddenly, theEvershams asked me to go on to Egypt with them. It was very nice ofthem, for I'm a dreadful bother, " said Arlee, dimpling. 

"But you speak of leaving them?" he said. 

"Oh, yes, I may do that as soon as some other friends of mine, theMaynards, reach here. They are coming here on their way to the HolyLand and I want to take that trip with them. And then I'll probablygo back to America with them. "

The Turkish captain stared at her, his dark eyes rather inscrutable, though a certain wonder was permitted to be felt in them. 

"You American girls--your ways are absolute like the decrees ofAllah!" he laughed softly. "But tell me--what will your father andyour mother say to this so rapidly changing from the one chaperon tothe other?"

"I haven't any father or mother, " said the girl. "I have a big, grown-up, married brother, and he knows I wouldn't change from oneparty unless it was all right. " She laughed amusedly at the youngman's comic gesture of bewilderment. "You think we American girlsare terribly independent. "

"I do, indeed, " he avowed, "but, " and he inclined his dark head ingraceful gallantry, "it is the independence of the princess of theblood royal. "

A really nice way of putting it, Arlee thought, contrasting thechivalrous homage of this Oriental with the dreadful "Americangoose!" of the Anglo-Saxon. 

"But tell me, " he went on, studying her face with an oddly intentlook, "do these friends now, the Evershams, know these others, the--the----"

"Maynards, " she supplied. "Oh, no, they have never met each other. The Maynards are friends I made at school. And Brother has never metthem either, " she added, enjoying his humorous mystification. 

"The decrees of Allah!" he murmured again. "But I will promise youan invitation for your chaperon and arrange for the name of the ladylater--_n'est-ce-pas?_"

"Yes, I will know as soon as I return from the Nile. You are goingto a lot of bother, you and your sister, " declared Arlee gratefully. 

"I go to ask you to take a little trouble, then, for that sister, "said the Captain slowly. "She is a widow and alone. Her life is--is_triste_--melancholy is your English word. Not much of brightness, of new things, of what you call pleasure, enters into that life, andshe enjoys to meet foreign ladies who are not--what shall Isay?--seekers after curiosities, who think our ladies are strangesights behind the bars. You know that the Europeans come uninvitedto our wedding receptions and make the strange questions!"

Arlee had the grace to blush, remembering her own avid desire tomake her way into one of those receptions, where the doors of theMoslem harem are thrown open to the feminine world in widespreadhospitality. 

The Captain went on, slowly, his eyes upon her, "But she knows thatyou are not one of those others and has requested that you do herthe grace to call upon her. I assured her that you would, for I knowthat you are kind, and also, " with an air of naïve pride which Arleefound admirable in him, "it is not all the world who is invited tothe home of our--our _haut-monde_, you understand?. .. And then itwill interest you to see how our ladies live in that seclusion whichis so droll to you. Confess you have heard strange stories, " and hesmiled in quizzical raillery upon her. 

The girl's flush deepened with the memory of the confusing storiesher head was stuffed with; tales of the bloomers, the veils, thecushions, the sweetmeats, the _nargueils_, the rose baths of the old_régime_ were jostled by the stories of the French nurses andEnglish governesses and the Paris fashions of the new era. She hadlistened breathlessly, with her eager young zest in life, to theamazing and contradictory narrations of the tourists who were everywhit as ignorant as she was, and her curiosity was on fire to seefor herself. She felt that a chance in a thousand had come her luckyway. 

"I shall be very glad to call, " she told him, "just as soon as Ireturn from the Nile. "

His face showed his disappointment--and a certain surprise. "But notbefore?"

"Why, I go to-morrow morning, you know, " said Arlee. "And----"

"It would be better--because of the invitation, " he said slowly, hesitantly, with the air of one who does not wish to importune. "Mysister would like to ask for one who is known personally to herself. She thought you could render her a few minutes this afternoon. "

"This afternoon?" Arlee thought quickly. "I ought to be packing, "she murmured, "my things aren't all ready. .. . And Mrs. Eversham isat the bazaars again and dear knows when she will be back. "

Just for an instant a spark burned in the black eyes watching thegirl, and then was gone, and when she raised her own eyes, perplexedand considering, to him, she saw only the same courteouslyattentive, but faintly indolent regard as before. Then the young mansmiled, with an air of frank amusement. 

"That would seem to be a dispensation!" he laughed. "My sister andthe Madame Eversham--no, they would not be sympathetic!. .. But ifyou can come, " he went on quickly, leaning forward and speaking in ahurried, lowered tone, "it can be arranged in an instant. I am totelephone to my sister and she will send her car for you. It is notfar and it does not need but a few minutes for the visit--unless youdesire. I cannot escort you in the car--it is not _en règle_--but Iwill come to the house and present you and then depart, that youladies may exchange the confidences. .. . Does that programme pleaseyou?"

"I--I don't know your sister's name, " said Arlee. 

He smiled. "Nechedil Azade Seniha--she is the widow of Tewfik Pasha. But say Madame simply to her--that will suffice. Shall I, then, telephone her?"

Just an instant Arlee hesitated, while her imagination flutteredabout the thought like humming-birds about sweets. Already she wasthinking of the story she could have to tell to her fellow travelershere and to the people at home. It was a chance, she repeated toherself, in a thousand, and the familiar details of phones andmotors seemed to rob its suddenness of all strangeness. .. . Besides, there was that matter of the Khedive's ball. It would be veryungracious to refuse a few minutes' visit to a lady who was going toso much trouble for her. 

"I will be ready in ten minutes, " she promised, springing to herfeet. 

The forgotten letters scattered like a fall of snow and the Captainstooped quickly for them, hiding the flash of exultation in hisface. He thrust the letters rather hurriedly upon her. 

"Good!. .. But need you wait for a _toilette_ when you are so--so_ravissante_ now?"

He gazed with frank appreciation at the linen suit she was wearing, but she shook her head laughingly at him. "To be interesting to aforeign lady I must have interesting clothes, " she avowed. "I shan'tbe ten minutes--really. "

"Then the car will be in waiting. I will give your name to thechauffeur and he will approach you. " He thought a minute, and thensaid, quickly, "And I will leave a note for Madame Eversham at thedesk to inform her of your destination and to express my regret thatshe is not here to accept the invitation. " His voice was flavoredwith droll irony. "In ten minutes--_bien sûr_?"

She confirmed it most positively, and it really was not quiteeighteen when she stepped out on the veranda, a vision, a positivelydevastating vision in soft and filmy white, with a soft and filmyhat all white lace and a pink rose. It is to be hoped that she didnot know how she looked. Otherwise there would have been no excusefor her and she should have been summarily haled to the nearestjustice, with all other breakers of the peace, and condemned to goodconduct and Shaker bonnets for the rest of her life. The rose on thehat, with such a rose of a face beneath the hat, was sheer wantoncruelty to mankind. 

It brought the heart into the throat of one young man who wasreading his paper beneath the striped awning, when he was notwatching, cat-like, the streets and the hotel door. He dropped thepaper with an agitated rustle and half rose to his feet; his eyes, alert and humorous gray-blue eyes, lighted with eagerness. His handflew up to his hat. 

He did not need to take it off. She did not even see him. She washurrying forward to the steps, following a long, lean Arab, somedragoman, apparently, in resplendent pongee robes, who opened thedoor of a limousine for her. The next instant he slammed the doorupon her, mounted the front seat, and the car rolled away. 

CHAPTER III

AT THE PALACE

That limousine utterly routed the tiny little qualm which had beenfurtively worming into Arlee's thrill of adventure. Nothing verystrange or out-of-the-way, she thought, could be connected with sucha modern car; it presented every symptom of effete civilization. Against the upholstery of delicate gray flamed the scarletpoinsettias hanging in wall vases of crystal overlaid with silvertracery; the mirror which confronted her was framed in silver, andbeneath it a tiny cabinet revealed a frivolous store of powders andpins and scents. Decidedly the Oriental widow of said sequestrationhad a car very much up to times. The only difference which itpresented from the cars of any modern city or of any modern lady wasin the smallness of the window panes, whose contracted sizeconfirmed the stories of the restrictions which Arlee had been toldwere imposed upon Moslem ladies by even those emancipated masculinerelatives who conceded cars. 

She peered out of the diminutive windows at the throng of life inthe unquiet streets as they halted for the passing of a camel ladenwith bricks and stones from a demolished building; the poor thingteetered precariously past under such a back-breaking load that thegirl felt it would have been a mercy to add the last straw and bedone with it. After it bobbed what was apparently an animated loadof hay, so completely were this other camel's legs hidden by hissmothering burden. 

Then the car shot impatiently forward, passing a dog cart full offair-haired English children, the youngest clasped in the arms of adark-skinned nurse, and behind the cart ran an indefatigable _sais_, bare-legged and sinewy, his red headdress and gold-embroideredjacket and blue bloomers flashing in the sun. On the sidewalk aparty of American tourists were capitulating to a post-card vender, and ahead of them a victoria load of German sightseers careenedaround the corner in the charge of a determined dragoman. 

Arlee smiled in happy superiority over these mere outsiders. _She_was not going about the beaten track, peeping at mosques and tombsand bazaars and windows; she was penetrating into the real life ofthis fascinating city, getting behind the grills and veils toglimpse the inner secrets. 

She thought, with a deepening of the sparkle in her blue eyes and adefiant lifting of the pointed chin, of a certain sandy-haired youngEnglishman and how wrong and reasonless and narrow and jealous werehis strictures upon her politeness to young Turks, and she thoughtwith a sense of vindicated pride of how thoroughly that nice youngman who had managed to introduce himself last night had endorsed herviews. Americans understood. And then her thoughts lingered aboutBilly and she caught herself wondering just how much he did meanabout coming up the Nile again. For upon happening to meet Billythat morning--Billy had devoted two hours and a half to the accidentof that happening!--he had joyously mentioned that he was trying tobuy out another man's berth upon that boat. It wasn't so much hiswanting to come that was droll--teasing sprites of girls withpeach-blossom prettiness are not unwonted to the thunder of pursuingfeet--but the frank and cheery way he had of announcing it. Not manymen had the courage of their desires. Not any men that little MissArlee had yet met had the frankness of such courage. And because allwomen love the adventurous spirit and are woefully disappointed inits masculine manifestations, she felt a gay little eagerness whichshe would have refused to own. It would be rather fun to see more ofhim--on the Nile--while Robert Falconer was sulking away in Cairo. And then when she returned she would surprise and confound thatmisguided young Englishman with her unexpected--to him--presence atthe Khedive's ball. And after that--but her thoughts were lost inhaziness then. Only the ball stood out distinct and glittering andfairylike. 

Thinking all these brightly revengeful thoughts she had beenoblivious to the many turnings of the motor, though it had occurredto her that they were taking more time than the car had needed toappear, and now she looked out the window and saw that they were ina narrow street lined with narrow houses, whose upper stories, slightly projecting in little bays, all presented the elaboratelygrilled façades of _mashrubiyeh_ work which announced the barredquarters of the women, the _haremlik_. 

Arlee loved to conjure up a romantic thrill for the mysterious Eastby reflecting that behind these obscuring screens were women of allages and conditions, neglected wives and youthful favorites, eagergirls and revolting brides, whose myriad eyes, bright or dull or gayor bitter, were peering into the tiny, cleverly arranged mirrorswhich gave them a tilted view of the streets. It was the sense ofthese watching eyes, these hidden women, which made those screenedwindows so stirring to her young imagination. 

The motor whirled out of the narrow street and into one that wasmuch wider and lined by houses that were detached and separated, apparently, by gardens, for there was a frequent waving of palmsover the high walls which lined the road. The street was empty ofall except an old orange vender, shuffling slowly along, with acartwheel of a tray on her head, piled with yellow fruit shiningvividly in the hot sun. The quiet and the solitude gave a sense ofdistance from the teeming bazaars and tourist-ridden haunts, whichbreathed of seclusion and aloofness. 

The car stopped and Arlee stepped out before a great house ofancient stone which rose sharply from the street. A high, pointeddoorway, elaborately carved, was before her, arching over a darkwooden door heavily studded with nails. Overhead jutted the littlebalconies of _mashrubiyeh_. She had no more than a swift impressionof the old façade, for immediately a doorkeeper, very vivid in hisOriental blue robes and his English yellow leather Oxfords, flungopen the heavy door. 

Stepping across the threshold, with a sudden excited quickening ofthe senses, in which so many things were mingled that the misgivingthere had scarcely time to make itself felt, Arlee found herself ina spacious vestibule, marble floored and inlaid with brilliant tile. She had just a glimpse of an inner court between the high archesopposite, and then her attention was claimed by Captain Kerissen, who sprang forward with a flash of welcome in his eyes that was likea leap of palpable light. 

"You are come!" he said, in a voice which was that of a man almostincredulous of his good fortune. Then he bowed very formally in hisbest military fashion, straight-backed from the waist, heels stifflytogether. "I welcome you, " he said. "My sister is rejoiced. .. . Thisstair--if you please. "

He waved to a stairway on the left, a small, steep affair, whichArlee ascended slowly, a sense of strangeness mounting with her, inspite of her confident bearing. She had not realized how odd itwould feel to be in this foreign house with the Captain at herheels. 

There was a door at the top of the stairs standing open into a long, spacious room which seemed shrouded in twilight after the sunfloodedcourt. One entire side of the room was a brown, lace-like screen of_mashrubiyeh_ windows; wide divans stretched beside them, and at theend of the room, facing Arlee, was a throne-like chair raised on asmall dais and canopied with heavy silks. 

By one of the windows a woman was squatting, a short, stout, turbaned figure, striking a few notes on a tambourine and crooningsoftly to herself in a low guttural. She raised her head withoutrising, to look at the entering couple, and for a startled secondArlee had the half hysterical fear that this squatting soloist wasthe _triste_ and aristocratic representative of the _haut-monde_ ofMoslem which the Captain had brought her to see, but the nextinstant another figure appeared in a doorway and came slowly towardthem. 

Flying to the winds went Arlee's anticipations of somber elegance. She saw the most amazingly vivid creature that she had ever laideyes on--a woman, young, though not in her first youth, penciled, powdered, painted, her hair a brilliant red, her gown a brilliantgreen. After the first shock of scattering amazement, Arlee becameintensely aware of a pair of yellow-brown eyes confronting her witha faintly smiling and rather mocking interrogation. The dark of_kohl_ about the eyes emphasized a certain slant _diablérie_ of lineand a faint penciling connected with the high and supercilious archof the brows. Henna flamed on the pointed tips of the fingersblazoned with glittering rings, and Arlee fancied the brilliance ofthe hair was due to this same generous assistance of nature. 

"My soul!" thought the girl swiftly, "they _do_ get themselves up!"

The Captain had stepped forward, speaking quickly in Turkish, with ahard-sounding rattle of words. The sister glanced at him with adeepening of that curious air of mockery and let fall two words inthe same tongue. Then she turned to Arlee. 

"_Je suis enchantée--d'avoir cet honneur--cet honneurinattendu----_"

She did not look remarkably enchanted, however. The eyes that playedappraisingly over her pretty caller had a quality of curioushardness, of race hostility, perhaps, the antagonism of the East forthe West, the Old for the New. Not all the modernity of clothes, ofmanners, of language, affected what Arlee felt intensely as thestrange, vivid foreignness of her. 

"My sister does not speak English--she has not the occasion, " theCaptain was quickly explaining. 

"_Gracious_" thought Arlee, in dismay. She had no illusions abouther French; it did very well in a shop or a restaurant, but it wasapt to peeter out feebly in polite conversation. Certainly it was novessel for voyaging in untried seas. There were simply loads ofthings, she thought discouragedly, the things she wanted most toask, that she would not be able to find words for. 

Aloud she was saying, "I am so glad to have the honor of being here. I am only sorry that my French is so bad. But perhaps you canunderstand----"

"I understand, " assented the Turkish woman, faintly smiling. 

The Captain had brought forward little gilt chairs of a Frenchdesign which seemed oddly out of place in this room of the East, andthe three seated themselves. Out of place, too, seemed the grandpiano which Arlee's eyes, roving now past her hostess, discoveredfor the first time. 

"It was so kind of you, " began Arlee again as the silence seemed tobe politely waiting upon her, "to send your automobile for me. "

"Ah--my automobile!" echoed the woman on a higher note, and laughed, with a flash of white teeth between carmined lips. "It pleased you?"

"Oh, yes, it is splendid!" the girl declared, in sincere praise. "Itis one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. "

"I enjoy it very much--that automobile!" said the other, againlaughing, with a quick turn of her eyes toward the brother. 

Negligently, rather caressingly, the young man murmured a fewTurkish words. She shrugged and leaned back in her chair, the flashof animation gone. "And Cairo--that pleases you?" she asked ofArlee. 

Stumbling a little in her French, but resolutely rushing over thedifficulties, Arlee launched into the expression of how very much itpleased her. Everything was beautiful to her. The color, the sky, the mosques, the minarets, the Nile, the pyramids--they were allwonderful. And the view from the Great Pyramid--and then shestopped, wondering if that were not beyond her hostess's experience. 

In confirmation of the thought the Turkish lady smiled, with aneffect of disdain. "Ascend the pyramids--that is indeed too much forus, " she said. "But nothing is too much for you Americans--no?"

Her curious glance traveled slowly from Arlee's flushed and lovelyface, under the rose-crowned hat, down over the filmy white gown andwhite-gloved hands clasping an ivory card case, to the small, white-shod feet and silken ankles. Arlee did not resent thedeliberate scrutiny; in coming to gaze she had been offering herselfto be gazed upon, and she was conscious that the three of thempresented a most piquant group in this dim and spacious old room ofthe East--the modern American girl, the cosmopolitan young officerin his vivid uniform, and this sequestered woman, of a period oftransition where the kohl and henna of the _odalisque_ contrastedwith a coiffure and gown from Paris. 

Slowly and disconnectedly the uninspiring conversation progressed. Once, when it appeared halted forever, Arlee cast a helpless look atthe Captain and intercepted a sharp glance at his sister. Indeed, Arlee thought, that sister was not distinguishing herself by hergrateful courtesy to this guest who was brightening the _tristesse_of her secluded day, but perhaps this was due to her Orientallanguor or the limitations of their medium of speech. 

It was a relief to have the Captain suggest music. At their politeinsistence Arlee went to the piano and did her best with a piece ofMacDowell. Then the sister took her turn, and to her surprise Arleefound herself listening to an exquisite interpretation of some ofthe most difficult of Brahms. The beringed and tinted fingerstouched the notes with rare delicacy, and brought from the piano aquality so vivid and poignant in appeal that Arlee could dream thathere the player's very life and heart were finding their realexpression. 

The last note fell softly into silence, and with her hands still onthe keys the woman looked up over her shoulder at her brother, looked with an intentness oddly provocative and prolonged. And forthe first time Arlee caught the quality of sudden and unforeseenattraction in her, and realized that this insolence of color, thisflaunting hair and painted mouth might have their place in somescheme of allurement outside her own standards. .. . And then suddenlyshe felt queerly sorry for her, touched by the quick jarringbitterness of a chord the woman suddenly struck, drowning thelaughing words the Captain had murmured to her. .. . Arlee feltvaguely indignant at him. No one wanted to have jokes tossed at herwhen she had just poured her heart out in music. 

The Captain was on his feet, making his adieux. Now that the ladieswere acquainted, he would leave them to discuss the modes and otherfeminine interests. He wished Miss Beecher a delightful trip uponthe Nile and hoped to see her upon her return, and she could be surethat everything would be arranged for her. When she had had her teaand wished to leave, the motor would return her to the hotel. Hemade a rapid speech in Turkish to his sister, bowed formally toArlee over a last _au revoir_ and was gone. 

Immediately the old woman entered with a tray of tea things, thesame old woman who had been squatting by the window, but who hadnoiselessly left the room during the music. She was followed by abewitching little girl of about ten with another tray, who remainedto serve while the old woman shuffled slowly away. Arlee was struckby the informality of the service; the servants appeared to beunderfoot like rugs; they came and went at will, unregarded. 

The tea was most disappointingly ordinary, for the pat of butterbore the rose stamp of the English dairy and the bread was Englishbake, but the sweetmeats were deliciously novel, resembling nothingArlee had seen in the shops, and new, too, was the sip of syrupwhich completed the refreshment. 

Her hostess had said but little during the repast, remaining silent, with an air of polite attention, her eyes fixed upon her caller witha gaze the girl found bafflingly inscrutable. Now as the girl roseto go, the Turkish woman suddenly revived her manners of hostess andsuggested a glimpse of some of the other rooms of the palace. "Ourseclusion interests you--yes?" she said, with a half-sad, half-bitter smile on her scarlet lips, and Arlee was conscious of asense of apologetic intrusion battling with her lively curiosity asshe followed her down the long chamber and through a curtaineddoorway to the right of the throne-like chair, into a large andempty anteroom, where the sunlight streaming through the lightlyscreened window on the wall at the right reminded Arlee that it wasyet glowing afternoon. 

She lingered by the window an instant, looking down into the courtwhich she had glimpsed from the vestibule. Across the court she sawa row of windows which, being unbarred, she guessed to be on themen's side of the house, and to the left the court was ended by asort of roofed colonnade. 

Her hostess passed under an elaborate archway, and Arlee followedslowly, passing through one stately, high-ceiled, dusty room intoanother, plunged again into the twilight of densely screening_mashrubiyeh_. There were views of fine carving, painted ceilings, inlaid door paneling, and rich and rusty embroideries where the nameof Allah could frequently be traced, but Arlee was ignorant of therare worth of all she saw; she stared about with no more than agirl's romantic sense of the old-time grandeur and the Orientalstrangeness, mingled with a disappointment that it was all so emptyand devoid of life. 

This part of the palace was very old, her hostess saiduninterestedly; these were the rooms of the dead and gone ladies ofthe dead and gone years. One of the Mamelukes had first built thiswing for his favorite wife--she had been poisoned by her rival anddied, here, on that divan, the narrator indicated, with a negligentgesture. 

Wide-eyed, Arlee stared about the empty, darkened rooms and feltdimly oppressed by them. They were so old, so melancholy, theserooms of dead and gone ladies. How much of life had been lived here, how much of hope had been smothered with these walls! What achinglove and fiery hate had vibrated here, only to smolder into helplessennui under the endless weight of tedious days. .. . She shiveredslightly, oppressed by the dreams of these ancient rooms, dreamsthat were heavy with realities. 

Slowly she moved back after her hostess, who had pushed back apanel in one wall, and Arlee stepped beside her within the tiny, balcony-like enclosure the panel had revealed, one side of which wasa wooden lace-work of fine screening, permitting one to see but notbe seen. Pressing her face against the grill, Arlee found she waslooking down into a long and spacious hall, lined with delicatecolumns bearing beautiful, pointed arches, and brilliant with oldgilding and inlay. 

This was the colonnade which she had seen forming one side of thecourt; it was the hall of banquets, she was told, and connected thiswing of the palace, the _haremlik_, with the _selamlik_, the men'swing, across the way. Here in old times the lord of the palace gavehis feasts, and this nook had been built for some favorite to viewthe revels. 

Arlee stared down into the great empty hall with an involuntaryquickening of the breath. How desolate it was, but how beautiful inits desolation! What strange revels had taken place there to thenotes of wild music, what girls had danced, what voices had shouted, what moods had been indulged! She thought of the men who had mademerry there . .. And then she thought of the women, generations ofwomen, who had stood where she was standing, pressing their youngfaces against the grill, their bright eyes peering, peering down. She felt their soft little silken ghosts all about her, theirbangles clinking, their perfumes enveloping her sense--lovely littlepainted dolls, their mimic passions helpless in their hearts. .. . 

Dreaming, she turned and in silence retraced her way after herhostess, loitering by the window in the anteroom to watch a veiledgirl drawing water at the old well in the center, an old well richin arabesques. 

How much happier, thought Arlee, were these serving maids in thefreedom of their poverty than the cloistered aristocrats behindtheir darkened windows. She wondered if that strange figure besideher, half Moslem, half modern, envied the little maid the saucy jestwhich she flung at a bare-footed boy idling beside a dozing whitedonkey. As she watched the old-world quiet of the picture wasbroken. Some one, the doorkeeper, she thought, from his vivid robesand yellow shoes, came running across the court, shouting somethingat the girl which sent her flying to the house, her jar forgotten, and another man, an enormous Nubian with blue Turkish bloomers, short red jacket and a red fez, hurried across the court toward the_haremlik_. 

The lady stepped toward the screening and called down; the manstopped, raised his head, and shouted back a jargon of excitedgutturals, waving his arms in vehement gesturing. His mistressinterrupted with a brief question, then with another, then noddingher head indifferently to herself, she called down an order, apparently, and turned away. 

"One of our servants is dead, " she murmured to Arlee in explanation. "They say now it is the plague. "

"The plague?" repeated the girl absently. She was thinking what ahideous creature that great Nubian was. Then, more vividly, "The_plague_?"

"You have fear?" said the negligent voice. 

Arlee nodded frankly. "Oh, yes, I should be terribly afraid of it, "she averred. "Aren't you?" And then she reflected, as she saw theinscrutable smile playing about the older woman's lips, that shemust be witnessing that fatalistic apathy of the East that she hadread about. 

But there was nothing apathetic about the Captain. He followed onthe very heels of the announcement, his sword clanking, his spursjingling, as he bounded up the stairs and hurried through the long, dim drawing-room toward them. 

"You have heard?" he cried in English as they came to meet him. "Youhave heard?"

"Of the plague!" Arlee answered, wondering at his agitation. "Yes, your sister just told me. Is it really the plague?"

"So say those damned doctors--pardon, but they are such imbeciles!"He made an angry gesture with his clenched hand. His face was tenseand excited. "They say so. And there is another sick . .. _Dieu_, what a misfortune! Truly, there was illness about us, a little, butwho thought----"

"I shall run back to my hotel, " said Arlee lightly, "before I catchone of your germs. "

"To the hotel--a thousand pardons, but that is the thing forbidden. "The young man made a gesture, with empty palms outspread, eloquentof rebellion and despair. "Those doctors--those pig English--theyhave set a quarantine upon us!"

CHAPTER IV

A SORRY GUEST

"A quarantine?" said Arlee Beecher, in a perfectly flat littlevoice. 

Again the young man exercised his power of gesture, his dark eyesseeming to plead his own helpless desire to mitigate his words. 

"Truly a quarantine. It is tyranny, but what can one do? They willhear nothing--they set their guard and it is finished--_biensimple_. We are their prisoners. "

"Prisoners?" Her mind appeared but a hollow echo of his words. Herheart was dropping, dropping sickishly, into unending space. Thenmeaning stabbed her like a dentist's needle, and a pandemonium ofincredulity and revolt clamored through every nerve in her body. "Why you can't mean--I'm going back to the hotel this instant! Ihaven't seen your servant!"

"That is nothing to them. They have no reason--heads of pigs! No onemust leave or they shoot--the tyrants, the imbecile tyrants! Buttheir day will not be forever--Islam will not endure----"

It was of no moment to Arlee Beecher what Islam would not endure. Her heart was galloping now like a runaway horse, but her voice rangwith quick reaction from that first sickening shock. 

"What nonsense, " she said positively. "They wouldn't shoot _me_. Whydidn't you call me when the English doctor was here. I could haveexplained then. But now--now I had better telephone, I suppose. Either to the doctor or the English ambassador--or the Americanconsul. I'll make them understand in a jiffy. Where is yourtelephone, please?"

"Alas, not in the palace. " The young captain's look of regretdeepened. 

"But--but you telephoned your sister! You telephoned her thisafternoon. "

"Ah, yes, but I spoke to a telephone which is in a palace nearhere--the palace of my uncle. I sent a servant with the message. ButI can send a message to that palace, " he offered eagerly, "and theycan telephone for you. Or I can send notes out to all the people youwish. The soldiers will call boys to deliver them. "

Across the girl's perfectly white face a tremor of panic darted;then she bit her lips very hard and stared very intently past theCaptain's green and gold shoulder. She had totally forgotten thesister who had sunk on a divan beside them, her brown eyes rimmed intheir dark pencilings turning from one to the other as if to readtheir faces. 

"I'll just speak to those soldiers, myself, " said Arlee decidedly. "I'll make them understand. " She left them there, their eyes uponher and sped down the long room to the door which the Captain'shurried entrance had left half open. She disappeared down the steps. 

In three minutes she was back, a flame in the frightened white ofher cheeks, a flame in the frightened blue of her eyes. 

"Captain Kerissen, " she called, and he took a step nearer to her, his face alert with sympathy, "Captain Kerissen, that is a _native_soldier! He is at the bottom of the stairs--with a bayonet--and hewill not let me pass. He doesn't know a word I say. Please come andtell him. "

"Miss Beecher, it is useless for me to tell him anything, " said theyoung Turk with a ring of quiet conviction. "I have been talking tothat one--and to the others. They are at every entrance. It is as Itold you--we are prisoners. "

"Surely you can tell him that I am a guest--you can _bribe_ him toturn his head, to let me slip by----"

"He would be shot if he let you out that street door. He has hisorders to keep the ladies in their quarters and it is death to himto disobey. That is the discipline--and the discipline has nomercy--particularly upon the native soldiers. " His tone heldbitterness. "It is useless to resist the soldiers. You must resignyourself to remain a guest until I can obtain word to one who canrender assistance. .. . Will it be so hard?" he added sympathetically, as she stood silent, her lips pressed quiveringly together. "Mysister will do everything----"

"Of course I can't stay here, " broke in Arlee in her clear, positiveyoung tones. "I must get back to the Evershams--and we are going upthe Nile to-morrow morning. Can you get a message to that doctor _atonce_? And have someone go and telephone from the next house to theconsul and ambassador--and I'll write them notes, too. "

Her voice broke suddenly. On what wings of folly she had come aloneto this place! Her bright adventure was a stupid scrape. Oh, whatmischance--what mischance! She was chokingly ashamed of thepredicament--to be penned up by a quarantine in a Moslem household. She was angry, defiant and humiliated at once. What would theEvershams say--and Robert Falconer----

 * * * * *

She had never waited for anything as she waited for the answers tothe passionately urgent notes she sent out. She had written thedoctor, the ambassador, the consul, the Evershams. And then shewalked up and down, up and down that long, dim room which grewdarker and darker with the fading light and counted off the secondsand the minutes and the hours with her pulsing heart beats. She hadnever known there was such suspense in the world. It was comparableto nothing in her girl's life--the only faint analogy was in the oldschool-time when she thought she had failed in the historyexamination and her roommate had gone to the office to find out forher. She remembered walking the floor then, in a silly panic offear. But she had not failed--she had just squeaked through and itwould be like that now. Someone would come to tell her thateverything was all right and laugh with her at her foolish fright. But underneath this strain of fervent reassurance ran a cold littlecurrent like an underground brook, a seeping chill of dread andvague fear and strange amazement that she should be here in thislonely palace, peering out of darkened windows, waiting andlistening. 

This time it _was_ the Captain's steps, coming up the stairs. Perceptive of her impatience, he had left her to herself, till hecould bring word. Now she stood, listening to the nearing jinglethat accompanied his footsteps, her hands clasped involuntarilyagainst her breast in rigid tension. And when she saw his facethrough the dusk, saw the courteous deprecation of it, thesolicitous sympathy, she did not need his words to tell her that itwas not yet all right. 

There was nothing to be done. Legal and medical authorities unitedin insisting that no one, not even the guest, should leave thepalace until the fear of spreading the infection was past. Thismight be modified in a day or two, but for the present they were toofrightened to make exceptions. 

And they were going up the Nile Friday morning, Arlee rememberednumbly. And this was Thursday night. 

"Did the Evershams--did they answer my letter?" she said with drylips. 

The Evershams, it seemed, had not been at the hotel. Perhaps whenthey had read the letter they would be able to do something aboutit. 

"They'll just _talk_!" cried Arlee passionately, her breast heaving. 

She wanted to scream, she wanted to rave, she wanted to fly downthe stairs and hurl herself recklessly against that barring bayonet. But because there was pride and spirit behind her delicateloveliness she shut the door hard upon those imps of hysteria andwith high-held head and palely smiling lips she thanked the Captainfor the hospitality he was extending in his sister's name. Yes, thank you, she would rejoin them at dinner. Yes, thank you, shewould like to go to her room now. 

A serving maid, called by her hostess, conducted her--the blue-robedgirl, she thought, that she had seen drawing water at the well. Ablack shawl hung from her head and dangling in its folds the_yashmak_ ready to be slipped on at the approach of the men beforewhom she must appear veiled. Her bare feet were thrust into scarletslippers, and as she moved silver anklets were visible, hangingloosely over slim, brown ankles. Shuffling slightly, yet with anerectly graceful carriage, the girl led the way into the ante-roomagain, pulled open one of the closed doors in the opposite wall andpassed up an encased staircase wrapped in darkness. They emergedinto the dusk of a long, dim hall, where hanging lamps from theceiling shed a mild luster and a strong smell of oil, and passingone or two doors on the right, the maid pushed, open one that wasrich in old gilding. 

Crossing the threshold Arlee felt that she was crossing thecenturies again into her own time. 

The room was a glitter of white and rose; the windows, unscreened, admitted the warm glow of late afternoon, and windows and doorwayand bed were smothered in rose and white hangings. A whitetriple-mirrored dressing-table gleamed with gold and ivory pieces; awhite fur rug was stretched before a rose silk divan billowy withplump pillows, and an open door beyond gave a view of shining tileand a porcelain bath. Near her was a baby grand piano in whiteenamel--reminding her of one she had seen in the White House--andshe noted absently a pile of gaudily covered music upon itbetokening tunes different from the Brahms she had heard downstairs. 

The maid indicated a pitcher of hot water in the bathroom--evidentlypipes and faucets played no part with the shining tub--and thenstepped outside, closing the door. 

After an instant's hesitation, Arlee took off her hat and bathed herface and hands, then moved slowly to the dressing table to glance ather hair. Hesitantly she picked up the shining brush and stared atthe flourish of an unintelligible monogram upon the back. Whosebrush was this? Whose room was she in? The place, vivid, silken, scented, was fairly breathing with occupancy. 

She laid down the brush without using it, touched her hair withabsent fingers, and crossed to the windows. She looked down into agarden, a deep tangle of a garden, presided over by a huge lebbektree that threw a pall of shadow upon the faintly moving flowersbeneath. 

The place seemed a riot in neglect, for across the white sandedpaths thick creepers had flung their arms, and vines and climberswere scaling the gnarled limbs of the acacia trees and covering thehigh walls beyond. She was looking to the west where the rose andgold of sunset still hung breathless on the painted air, though thesun was hidden below the fringe of palms which rose above the wall, and for a moment that still brilliance of the sky above the sharplysilhouetted palms made her heart quicken in forgetfulness. 

And then her hands became aware of the bars she had beenunconsciously clasping, white-painted bars extending across thewindow. They were of iron. 

Not even here was there freedom, she thought with a throb of dread, not even here where one faced dark gardens and blank walls and theempty west. 

 * * * * *

Somehow that dinner had passed, that queer dinner in the candlelight between the silent, painted woman and the politely talkativeyoung man, and passed without a word from outside for the girl whosenerves were fraying with the suspense. The old woman and the littlegirl had served them with a meal which would have been judgeddelicious in any European hotel and though Arlee's nerves weretricky her young appetite was not and she ate and talked with adetermined little air of trying to dissipate the strangeness of thesituation. 

And with the coffee came inspiration. She began to plan . .. Halflistening to the Captain's amiable efforts to entertain her with anaccount of the palace, and of its history under Ismail, the MadKhedive, who had occupied it for some months, tearing down andbuilding in his feverish way, only to weary at the first hint ofcompletion. She was wondering why in the world the inspiration hadnot arrived at once. Perhaps something in this fatalistic air, thisstupid acceptance of authority had numbed her. 

With alacrity she accepted the Captain's suggestion of a stroll inthe garden, and was relieved when the silent sister did not rise toaccompany them, but remained in the candle-light with her coffee andcigarette. She found the woman's lightly mocking, watchful eyes, theenigmatic smile upon the carmined lips, increasingly hard to bear. That woman didn't like her--she had failed, somehow, to propitiateher hostile curiosities. 

Back through the old empty rooms of the past, the Captain led her, and passing by the screened alcove from which Arlee had looked downinto the ancient banquet hall he came to a small dark painted doorwhich he unlocked. The door opened upon a flight of worn and narrowstone steps descending into the garden. 

 * * * * *

It had been night in the palace of darkened windows but in thegarden it was yet day, although the rose and gold of sunset hadfaded to paling pinks and translucent ambers and in the east thestars were shining in the deepening blue. It was the same garden onwhich her windows opened; Arlee recognized the huge lebbek tree inthe center, the row of acacias, and the palms against the farthestwall. It was a very old garden. Those trees must have seen many, many years, she thought, and felt again that sense of vagueoppression and melancholy which the lonely rooms of the palace hadgiven her; that row of acacias which cast such crooked shadows overthe path had been planted by very long-ago hands. 

So she thought fleetingly, then stared about, her concern for otherthings. Captain Kerissen lighted a cigarette; over his cupped handshis eyes followed hers searchingly. 

"That is the hall of banquets?" she said, pointing to the raisedcolonnade. 

"Ah, yes--you are quick to learn!" he complimented. 

"And could we walk through that into the courtyard?"

"Undoubtedly. "

"And this side is the _haremlik_, " she murmured, glancing up at thewindows upon the third floor which she felt were those of that roseand white room. Much of the rest of the wing, she saw, extendingdown to the high wall at right angles to it, was in a ruinous anddilapidated condition. "What is there?" she asked. 

"The rooms the Khedive Ismail left unfinished. They are of no use. "

"And on the other side?" she persisted, pointing towards the wallthat was the continuation of the men's wing, which stopped at thecolonnade. 

"On the other side is the palace of another man, and on the otherside of that, ending the road is a _cimitère_--what you say, cemetery. "

"And back of _that_ wall?" She nodded at the one behind the palms, running parallel to the banquet hall. 

"Back of that a canal, Mademoiselle, and across are otherpalaces. .. . You study the geography, it appears?"

"Indeed I do!" She turned towards him, her face bright witheagerness. Her light curls were blown about her forehead by abreeze, hot and dry, that seemed to mingle the odors of the desertwith a piercing sweetness which it drew from the deep throats of thelilies swaying beside the path. "And I think _that_ is going to bethe way out for me. " Her quick nod was for the wall behind thepalms. "I want you to do me a great big favor, Captain Kerissen, that will make me your debtor for life! You must help me break outof this quarantine this very night?"

Not the ghost of a fear of failure to persuade him lurked in thosebright, dancing eyes. Not the ghost of a fear of failure hauntedthose confident, smiling lips. 

He sucked on his cigarette a moment, then slowly blew a thin ring ofblue smoke. He appeared interested in watching it. 

"What is it--this idea?" he murmured. 

"Well, you may have a better one but mine is just to climb thatwall, as soon as it gets dark. If you just get a ladder, or a pileof chairs I am sure I can manage it--and then I'll be back at thehotel in an hour!"

He took out his cigarette and shook his head at her. "You woulddrop, like the plum of Haydee, into the arms of the soldier who isguarding on the other side. .. . Shall I tell you the story of thatplum?"

"A soldier guarding--a _native_ soldier?"

"Yes. "

"Then--then please won't you see if you can bribe him?" sheshamelessly pleaded, anxiously clasping and unclasping her hands. "_Please_, Captain Kerissen, you must help me to run away to-night. I _can't_ be shut up like this--I can't give up the Nile trip andbesides--Oh, I really must be back at that hotel to-night!. .. Ifthat soldier is sure no one else will see him I know you canpersuade him to look away just a little minute while I slip down andrun off!"

"Ah, no, no, my dear Miss Beecher, there is no hope of that. " Theyoung man started walking down the path and Arlee walked beside him, her eyes fixed on his face, incredulous of the denial that they werereading there. "He would think it a test, a trap--not for one minuteis it to be thought of! Now could I let you go alone in that placeby the canal. There is danger--you do not understand----"

"Oh, I understand, but I can take care of myself!" Across herpleading flashed the ironic thought of how excellently she had takencare of herself in coming there that very afternoon! "Just let meget over that wall and I can find my way--and if you cannot bribethe man we can wait till it is darker and then, when he is at theother end, why I can be down and off in a jiffy!"

"He would shoot, " said the Captain. "He has his order. I have talkedwith them. .. . And what would the authorities say when they send herethe doctor to-morrow and you are gone?"

"Say--say--Oh, what does it matter what they say? Tell them that Iran away without your knowledge. Surely----"

"But your name has been given as detained. They would not let youreappear in the world----"

"You leave that to me! I know it would be all right--once I wasthere. Please do this for me, Captain Kerissen--_please_! I knowthat in a great palace like this there must be many, many ways whereone could slip into the streets----"

"In all this palace there are but three doors--the door in thevestibule by which you entered, the great door to its right, underthe arch into the court, and the little door from the garden to thecanal. " He waved his cigarette at the wall ahead of them, towardswhich they were slowly walking. "And all those three doors arebarred upon the outside and there is a soldier before each one--andthe soldier that you saw within the vestibule, watching us there. "

"But--but the windows. " She remembered the _mashrubiyeh_, but wenton resolutely, "I mean, the windows on the men's side. Aren't thereany windows in that part which are open?"

"The _selamlik_ is a short wing and looks into the court. " A note ofimpatience sounded in his voice. He tossed away his cigarette whichfell, a burning spark, in the shadows. Already, as they talked, ithad grown darker, and the impatient tropic night was stealing onthem. "It is no use, " he repeated. "There is no way out for you--orany of us. "

Into her heart stole the unthinkable perception that he did not wantto help her--he was afraid of the authorities--or else--orelse--Desperately she returned to the appeal. 

"But do let me try to get over that wall. I will watch for thesoldier--I will take the responsibility. Please, now--let us planthat attempt. "

His answer held a quiet finality. "It is impossible. .. . And the wallis too high for such little feet. "

The startled color flashed into her cheeks. Only Oriental languageof course. .. . Perhaps she was unduly sensitive to any hint offamiliarity in her predicament. 

"I could manage it perfectly, " she said with coldness. 

He bent over her, as they walked. "Are you so unhappy here?"

"Of course I am unhappy, " she gave back with a clearmatter-of-factness that strove to ignore the sudden softening of hisvoice. "I am _very_ unhappy. I realize that I should not be here, that I am intruding upon your hospitality----"

"You are making me most happy. "

"And I am making my friends most anxious and losing my trip on theNile. "

"The Nile, " he said, "flows on forever. Who knows how soon you willsee it and under what happier circumstances?"

"Our boat was to sail at ten. I simply must find a way outto-night----"

"That is impossible. " He spoke with sudden irritation, which hesoftened the next instant, with a light laugh. "You Americans--howyou hurry!. .. Tell me--have you no heart for all this?"

She looked about her at the silent garden, the deepening shadows, the darkening sky. Above her head, now, high in the air were thefaintly rustling palm leaves. Behind the palms stretched the wall, high and blankly impassable. She felt strange, unreal. .. . Her veryfright was unreal. 

"Tell me, " he was saying, his voice low and caressing, "are theremany girls like you--in your America?"

She tried to speak quite easily, quite simply. "You have been inEngland and France, Captain Kerissen, and you have seen manyAmericans traveling there. "

"I have seen many--yes. But not like you. " She looked swiftly athim, then more swiftly away. His eyes were glowing with a look ofdeep excitement; his teeth flashed white under his small, darkmustache. "Shall I tell you how you appear beside those others?"

"No, thank you, " the girl answered with a hurried crispness whichbrought a stare and then a low laugh from him. 

"You have been told so often?" he suggested. 

"I never permit myself to be told at all!" Anger made her youngvoice imperious, but her heart was beating furiously. Involuntarilyshe quickened her steps and he reached his hand to her bare forearmand held her back. 

"Pardon--but you are too quick. "

She stood rigid, some deep instinct warning her not to resist. Thesituation had gone to the man's head, she felt dumbly; his courtesywas only a scant veneer over that Oriental cast of view which, likethe Latin, reads every accident of propinquity as opportunity. Hishand fell away and they walked on in slower time. When he spoke hisvoice betrayed the feeling quickening within him. 

"Then I have a pleasure before me, for you will listen, please. Tome your sister Americans are like big, bright flowers which grow bythe wayside where every wind blows hard upon them. And each receivesthe dust of the footsteps of many men till comes the one who shallpossess her. But he does not bear her away. He puts his name uponher, but leaves her out in the same field where every passerby maylook and handle----"

"You are dreadfully rude, " said Arlee clearly. "You don't understandat all. I thought you knew better. "

"Ah, I know! Was I not in England and did I not hear men talk--yes, of sisters and wives with bold words and laughter? Not so of ourladies--they are sacred names not to be spoken by another. .. . But Ido not wish to speak of these others of your race. I speak of you. "

"Really, I would rather you would not speak of me. "

"But I wish to tell you. " His voice was no louder; it was evenlower, but it took on a note of authority. Arlee was silent, a chillcreeping up about her heart--like a rising tide. .. . 

"You are a flower upon a height, " he said, and his tones were softagain and gently caressing, "laughing at others because you know youare so high above them, and so proud. The blue of the skies is inyour eyes, and the gold of the sun in your hair. You have a beautythat is too bright to be endured--it burns a man's heart like aflame. .. . It was never meant to shine in a common field. It must beguarded, revered, adored--a princess upon a height----"

"You have an Oriental imagination, " said Arlee Beecher, and prayedGod her voice did not tremble. "I must ask you not to pay me suchcompliments while I am your guest. "

"No?. .. Why not?"

"They--are embarrassing. "

"Embarrassment is an emotion rare to find among your ladies--it isthe dewy bloom upon your own perfect innocence. .. . Ah, I wish youspoke my language! I could tell you many things----"

"Your English is excellent, " said the white-faced girl. "Did youlearn it at Oxford or before?"

He did not pause for such foolish questionings. "Why do you not wishme to tell you what you are?" he said reproachfully. "Is it becauseyou doubt that I mean it?"

"Because I am not used to such compliments--and I would rather nothear them now. I am your guest and I am very tired. I must go in. "

It was very dark in the garden. And it was still and unutterablylonely. Only the stars burned above them in the heavens; only thelight wind of the desert stirred. From the far distance the muffledbeat of the tom-tom sounded. Surely, thought Arlee, surely she wasdreaming. .. . This could not be Arlee Beecher, here with thisman--this Turk. 

"I must go in, " she repeated, with a heightening of assurance. 

As he looked down at her for a moment that chill dread seemed tolay its icy hands on her very heart as she glimpsed something of thetumult within his eyes. She had a vision of him as a man capable ofall, reckless, impassioned, poised upon the brink of some desperateplunge. .. . Then the hands of consequences seemed to lay compellinghold upon him; the fire was extinguished; the vision gone like amirage. His eyes were friendly, his lips smiling, as he bowed toher, in deferential courtesy, to all appearances a gentleman of herworld. 

"I must not tire my guest, " he said, and stood aside to let her passup the narrow stone steps. 

"We shall have other walks, " he added, and the chill, delicatemenace of those words went with Arlee Beecher to the rose and whiteroom, and kept her sorry company through the long and restlesshours. 

CHAPTER V

WITHIN THE WALLS

Again the knocking, muffled but softly insistent, and Arlee's eyes, heavy with tardy sleep, came slowly open, resting blankly on theglittering strangeness of the room. The daylight was streaming inthe wide windows, striking brightly on the white enameled furniturewhich had glimmered so ghost-like through the wakeful darkness ofthe night, and flung back in dancing points of color from themirrors and the glass and gold of toilet pieces. The air was hot andclose, as if the first freshness of the morning was already past. 

Again through the heavy door came the knocking and the softreassurance of a girl's voice. Arlee sprang from the couch where shehad lain down that night, not undressed, but with her white frockexchanged for the negligée she had found laid out for her amongother things, and hurried toward the door where she had piled twochairs to supplement the lock--a foolish-looking barricade in theshining light of day, she thought, her lips lifting whimsically. 

The young Turkish maid entered with a huge jar of water which sheemptied into the bath, returning to the door to take in another andyet another and another from some unseen porter, and pouring theseinto the bath, she added a spray of perfume and laid out powders andtowels, smiling the while at Arlee, with the fascinated interest ofa child. 

"Do you speak English?" said Arlee eagerly. 

But the girl laughed and shook her head at the question, and at theFrench and German with which Arlee next addressed her, and answeredin soft Turkish, at which it was Arlee's turn to laugh and shake herhead. But she felt a little rueful behind her pleasant smiling. Shewished she could talk with the girl. She wondered about her. She hadvery handsome dark eyes, though perhaps overbold at times, but herlips were thick and her nose was flattened as if generations of_yashmak_-wearing women had crushed every hope of contour. 

The cool freshness of the water was grateful to her senses. It was aplunge back into sanity and normal life again, drowning those ghostsof vague foreboding and anxieties which had kept such unpleasantvigil with her, and when the Turkish girl returned with a tray, Arlee was able to sit and eat breakfast with a trace of amusement atthe oddity of the affair--sipping coffee in this Parisian boudoiroverlooking an Egyptian garden. 

As she was buttering a last crumb of toast the girl re-entered witha box from the florist. Her white teeth flashing at Arlee in a smileof admiring interest, she broke the cord with thick fingers andArlee found the box full of roses, creamy pink and dewy fresh. TheCaptain's card was enclosed, and across the back of it he hadwritten a message:

 I am sending out for some flowers for our guest and I hope that they will convey to her my greeting. If there is anything that you would have, it is yours if it is in my power to give. My sister is indisposed, but will visit you when her indisposition will permit. This afternoon I will see you and report the result of our protests to the authorities. Until then, be tranquil, and accommodate yourself here. 

A tacit apology, thought Arlee, pondering the dull letter a moment, then dropping it to touch the roses with light fingers. The youngman's wits had evidently returned with the sun. He had utterly lostthem last night with the starshine and the shadows and his Orientalconception of the intimacy of the situation--but, after all, he hadtoo much good sense not to be aware of the folly of annoying her. Her cheeks flushed a little warmer at the memory of the bold wordsand the lordly hand on her arm, and her heart quickened in itsbeating. She had certainly been playing with fire, and the sparksshe had so ignorantly struck had lighted for her an unforgettableglimpse of the Oriental nature beneath all its English polish, butshe imagined, very fearlessly, that the spark was out. She was not anature that was easily alarmed or daunted; beneath her look ofdelicate fragility was a very sturdy confidence, and she had theimplicit sense of security instinct in the kitten whose blithe dayshave known nothing but kindness. Yet she felt herself tremendouslyexperienced and initiated. .. . 

She wrote back a word of thanks for the flowers and a request forwriting paper and ink, and when they were brought she wrote threemost urgent letters, and after an instant's hesitation a fourth--tothe Viceroy himself. Feeling that his mail might be bulky, shemarked it "Immediate" in large characters and gave them to the maid, who nodded intelligently and shuffled away. 

It was very odd, she thought then, that she had no letters. By nowthe Evershams must surely have written--she had begged them to. .. . But she was _not_ going to be silly and panicky, she determinedlyinformed that queer little catch in her side which came at thethought of her isolation, and humming defiantly she sat down at thewhite piano and opened the score of a light opera which she knew:

 Say not love is a dream, Say not that hope is vain . .. 

She had danced to that tune last night--no, the night beforelast--danced to it with that extraordinarily impulsive young manfrom home--for all America was now home to her spirit. And she hadpromised to see him last night. She wondered what he had thought ofher absence. .. . She could imagine the Evershams dolefully deploringher rashness, yet not without a totally unconscious tinge of properrelish at its prompt punishment. They were such dismal old dears!They _would_ complain--they must have made her the talk of the hotelby now. Robert Falconer would enjoy that! And his sister and LadyClaire would ask about her, and Lady Claire would say, "Howodd--fancy!" in that rather clipped and high-bred voice of hers. .. . But she was _not_ going to think about it!

She opened more music, stared wonderingly at the unfamiliar pages, read the English translation beneath the German lines, then pushedthem away, her cheeks the pinker. They were as bad as Frenchpostcards, she thought, aghast. Whose room was this, anyway? Whosepiano was this? Whose was the lacy negligée she had worn and thegossamer lingerie the maid had placed in the chiffonier for her? Wasshe usurping her hostess's boudoir?

She began to walk restlessly up and down the room, feeling timeinterminable, hating each lagging second of delay. 

Then came a tray of luncheon, and lying upon it a yellow envelope. With an eagerness that hurt in its keenness she snatched it up andtore out the folded sheet. Her eyes leaped down the lines. Thenslowly they followed them again:

 I think it very strange of you to leave us like that, but of course you are your own mistress. We are sorry and hope it will soon be over and you will join us again, unless you prefer your other friends, the Maynards. We have packed your clothes and sent them to Cook's for your orders, and we have paid your hotel bill. Let us know when you can join us. 

 MRS. EVERSHAM. 

That was all. No word of real sympathy--no declaration of help. Passive acceptance of her predicament--perhaps indeed a retributivefeeling of its fitness for her folly. They were annoyed. .. . Packingher clothes must have been a bother--so was paying her hotel bill. 

She crumpled the telegram with an angry little hand. Evidently theyhad done none of the telephoning she had begged of them. Surelythere would have been time for that, if only they had hurried alittle! She remembered with a sort of hopeless rage their maddeningdeliberateness. .. . Well, they were gone off to the Nile--thetelegram, she saw, had been sent as they were on their way to theboat--and she had nothing more to hope from them! But surely theother people, the consul, the ambassador, the mysterious medicalauthorities, would understand when they had read her letters. 

She sent another note to the Captain, asking to be called when thedoctor came, and then she sat down at the little white table andbegan again to write. 

But not to Falconer. Never would she beg of him, never, sheresolved, with a tightening of her soft lips. She would never lethim know how miserable she was over this stupid scrape; when shereturned to the hotel she would carry affairs with a high hand andhold forth upon the interesting quaintness of her experience and theold-world charm of her hostess. She laughed, in angry mockery. Neverto him, after their quarrel, would she confess herself. 

The letter was to a young man whose gray eyes she remembered as verykind and whose chin as very vigorous. He would do things, shethought. And he would understand--he was an American. And dimly shefelt that she didn't want him to think she had utterly forgottenher promise of the evening before last, and she didn't want him tobe filled with whatever dismal impression the Evershams were givingout. So she dwelt very lightly upon her annoyance at being detained, and asked him please to see the consul or the English Ambassador orsomebody in power and hurry matters up a little, as her rightfulcaretakers had taken themselves off to the Nile. And she saidnothing stupid about the strangeness of her writing to him afteronly speaking to him twice and never being really presented. Shemerely added, "Please hurry things--I hate being a prisoner, " andsealed and addressed it with a flourish to William B. Hill, and sentit off by the maid, and felt oddly comforted by the memory ofBilly's vigorous chin. 

The heat of the rose-and-white room was stifling now as the slantsun of afternoon burned through the closed blinds and drawnhangings. Languidly she curled up upon the sofa and pillowed herheavy head on the scented silk, and so, drowsing with fitful dreams, she lost the sense of the lagging hours. 

She roused to find the maid at hand with more water jars, and, whenshe had bathed, the girl reappeared and beckoned her to follow. Perhaps the doctor was below, thought Arlee; perhaps the consulatehad sent for her! With flying feet she followed down the dark oldstairs and across the anteroom into the dim salon, only to find acandle-lighted table set for dinner in the middle of the room andCaptain Kerissen bowing ceremoniously beside it. 

In the blankness of her disappointment she scarcely grasped what hewas saying about the dinner hour being early and his sister beingindisposed. She interrupted with a breathless demand for news:

"And my letters--surely there has been time for answers!"

"Answers, yes, " he replied, "but not such as I could wish for yoursake. "

"You mean----?"

"The English have written to me and request that I cease to troublethe department with my importunities. For I myself had written tothem again, that I might find grace in your eyes by accomplishingyour desires. They say to me that it is useless. The plague is moreserious than the convenience of my visitors, and all must be doneaccording to rule. When there is no danger you may depart. "

The crash of hopes went echoing to the farthest reaches of herconsciousness. But pride stiffened her to dissemble, and she triedto smile as she mechanically accepted the Captain's invitation to beseated at the little candle-lighted table. 

"There was no word to me personally?" she asked. 

"None, but the telegram which came this morning. I judged that itwas not of a significance, for you did not send me a report. "

"No--it was not of a significance, " she repeated, with a ghost of alittle smile. "It was from the Evershams. "

"Ah! Their condolences, I think?. .. And is it that they still makethe Nile trip?"

"Yes. .. . They went this morning. " She spoke hesitantly, averse tohaving this eager-eyed young host perceive how truly deserted shewas. "They expect me to take the express train later and join them. "

"It is only a night's ride to Assouan. " He spoke soothingly. "Butyou are not eating, Miss Beecher. I recommend this consommé. "

It was worth the recommending. Miss Beecher spooned it slowly, thendemanded, "Why was I not called when the doctor came?"

"But he does not come! Perhaps he is afraid"--the young man's browsand shoulders rose expressively--"but certainly he does not riskhimself. If a servant is ill we are to tell a soldier and the sickone will be taken away to the house of plague--_bien simple_. It isso hard that I am helpless for you, " he said, with sympatheticconcern, then added, with an air of boyish confession, "although Ido not deny that it is happiness for me to see you here. "

The look in his eyes forced itself upon her. And the secret sense ofdiscomfort intruded like a third presence at the little table. 

In a clear voice of dry indifference: "That's very polite of you, "she remarked, "but I imagine you are pretty furious, too, to be keptpent up in somebody else's house like this. "

"But this is not somebody else's house, " he smiled, his eyesobservant of her quick glance and look of confusion. "I am _chezmoi_. "

"Oh! I thought--I was visiting your sister. "

"My sister lives with me. She is a widow--and we are both alone. "

"She does not seem to care for company. "

"She is indisposed. She regrets it exceedingly. " The young manlooked grave and solicitous. "But I trust your comfort is not beingneglected?"

"Oh, my comfort is being beautifully attended to, thank you, but mypatience is wearing itself out!" Arlee spoke with a blitheassumption of humor. 

"I wish that I could extend the resources of my palace for you. "

"You must tell me about the palace. I shall want to picture it to myfriends when I tell them about it. It's very old, isn't it? It musthave seen a great deal of life. "

"Ah, yes, it has seen life--and what life! _Quelle vie!_" A flash ofreal enthusiasm dispelled the suave indolence of his handsomefeatures. 

"Have you seen those old rooms? Those rooms that were built by theMamelukes? There is nothing now in Cairo like them. "

"I thought them very beautiful, " said the girl. "Tell me about thoseMamelukes who lived here. "

"They were _men_, " he said with pride, his eyes kindling, "men wholived as kings dare not live to-day!" The subject of those old daysand those old ancestors of his was evidently dear to the youngmodern, and he launched into an animated sketch of those times, trying to picture for Arlee something of the glowing pageant of thepast. And as she listened she found her own high spirit stirring insympathy with the barbaric strength of those old nobles, riding tobattle on their fiery Arab steeds, waging their private wars, brooking no affront, no command, working no other man's will. 

"They knew both power and beauty, " he declared, "like the Medici ofFlorence. There are no leaders like that in the modern world. To-daybeauty is beggared, and power is lusterless. .. . And taste? Taste isa hundred-headed Hydra, roaring with a hundred tongues!"

"While in the old days in Cairo it only roared with the tongues ofMamelukes?" Arlee suggested, a glint of mischief in her smile. 

He nodded. "It should be the concern of nobles--not of the rabble. That is why I should hate your America--where the rabble prevail. "

"It's not nice of you to call me a rabble, " said Arlee, busy withher plate of chicken. "But I want to hear more about your oldMamelukes. Is the story true about the Sultan's being so afraid ofthem that he had them taken by surprise and killed?"

"He did well to fear them, " said Kerissen. "And he, too, was astrong man who had the power to clear his own path. Those nobleswere in the path of Mohammed Ali. They were too strong for him, heknew it--and they knew it and were not afraid. On one day they wereall assembled at the Citadel, at the ceremony which Mohammed Ali wasgiving in honor of his son, Toussoum. It was the first of March, in1811, and my ancestor, the father of my father's father, rode outfrom this palace, through the gate by the court, which is the oldgate, in his most splendid attire to greet his sovereign's son. Theemerald upon his turban was as large as a man's eye, and his swordhilt was studded with turquoise and pearls and the hilt was a blazonof gold. His robes were of silk, gold threaded, and his horse wastrapped with gold and silver and a diamond hung between her eyes. .. . The Mamelukes were fêted and courted, and then, as they were leavingthe Citadel--you have been up there?" he broke off to question, andArlee nodded, her eyes wide and intent like a listening child's, "and you recall that deep, crooked way between the high walls, between the fortified doors? Imagine to yourself that deep wayfilled with men on horseback, quitting the Citadel, having takenleave of their Sultan--they were a picture of such pride and pomp asEgypt has never seen again. And then the treachery--the great gatesclosed before them and behind them, the terrible fire upon them fromall sides, the bullets of the hidden Albanians pouring down like thehosts of death--the uproar, the cries of horses, the shouts of thetrapped men, and then all the tumult dying, dying, down to the lastmoan and hiccough of blood. "

"But one escaped?" questioned the girl, breaking the silence whichhad followed the cessation of his voice. "Is it true that one reallyescaped?"

"Anym-bey--yes, he was the only one that escaped that massacre. Hehad a fierce horse which gave him pain to mount, and he was still inthe courtyard of the palace when he heard the outburst of shots andthen the cries. He comprehended. Stripping his turban from his headhe bound it over the eyes of his stallion and, spurring to a gallop, he dashed out over the parapet of the Citadel and down--down--down!Magnificent! He did not die of it, but alas! he did not escape. Wounded as he was he managed to reach the house of a relative, butthe soldiers of the Sultan tracked him there and seized him. .. . Hewas killed. "

"Oh, the pity--after that splendid dash!" Arlee stopped and lookedaround her, at the strange shadowy room hung with its oldembroideries and latticed with its ancient screening. "This roommakes it all so real, somehow, " she murmured. "I didn't believe itall when the dragoman told me--probably because he showed me themark of the horse's hoof in the stone of the parapet! I thought itwas all a legend--like the mark. "

"Did he show you, too, the bulrush where Moses was found and theindentures in the stones in the crypt of the Coptic Church whereSaint Joseph and Mary sat to rest after the flight into Egypt?"laughed the Captain. And, with a teasing smile, "Ah, what imbecilesthey think you tourists!"

But Arlee merely laughed with him, while the old woman changed theplates for dessert. Her spirits had brightened mercurially. This wasreally interesting. .. . Uneasiness had vanished. 

"Is that an old Mameluke throne?" she asked, pointing to the raisedchair upon the dais, with its heavy, dusty draperies. 

The Captain glanced at it and shook his head, smiling faintly. "No, that is the throne of marriage. " He pushed away his sweet andlighted a cigarette. "That is where sits the bride when she has beenbrought to the home of her husband--there she holds her reception. Those are the fêtes to which the English ladies come in suchcuriosity. " His smile was not quite pleasant. 

"You cannot blame them for feeling a real--interest, " said Arleehesitantly. 

"Their interest--pah!" he flung back excitably and made a violentgesture with his cigarette. "They peer at the bride with theirhaggard eyes, and they say, 'What! You have not seen your husbandtill to-day! How strange--how strange! Has he not written to you?Suppose you do not like him, ' and they laugh and add, 'Fancy a girlamong us being married like that!'. .. The imbeciles--whose ownmarriages are abominations!"

For a moment Arlee was silent, instinct and impulse warring withinher. The man was a maniac upon those subjects, and it was madness toexchange a word with him--but her young anger darted through herdiscretion. 

"They are _not_ abominations!" she gave back proudly. 

"But I know--I know--have I not been at marriages in England?" hedeclared, with startling fierceness. "Men and women crowd about thebride; they press in line and kiss her; bearded mouths and shavenlips, young and old, they brush off that exquisite bloom ofinnocence which a husband delights to discover. Her lips are soiled, _fanée_. .. . And then the man and woman go away together into apublic hotel or a train, and the people laugh and shout after them, and hurl shoes and rice, with a great din of noise. I have heard!"He stopped, looked a moment at the flushed curve of Arlee's avertedface, the droop of her shadowy lashes which veiled the confusion andanger of her spirit, and then, leaning forward, his eyes still uponher, he spoke in a lower, softer tone, caressing in its inflections. 

"With us it is not so, " he said. "We have dignity in our rejoicing, and delicacy in our love. The bride is brought in state to the homeof her husband, no eyes in the street resting upon her, and there, in his home, her husband welcomes her and retires with his friends, while she holds a reception with hers. Later the husband will comehome and greet her, and he wooes her to him as tenderly as he wouldgather a flower that he would wear. He is no rude master, no tyrant, as you have been taught to think! He wins her heart and mind to him;it is the conquest of the spirit!. .. I tell you that our men aloneunderstand the secret of women! Is not the life he gives her betterthan what you call the world? The woman blooms like a flower for herhusband alone; his eyes only may dwell upon the beauty of her face;for him alone, her lips--her lips----"

The young man's voice, grown husky, died away. A dreadful stillnessfollowed, a stillness vibrating with unspoken thought. Her eyeslifted toward him, then fled away, so full of strange, dark, desirous things was the look she encountered. Abruptly he rose--hewas coming toward her, and she struggled suddenly to her feet, battling against the cold terror which held her dumb and unready. She flung one arm out before her and found it grasped by hands thatwere hot and burning. The touch shot her with a fierce rage thatcleared her brain and unlocked her lips. 

"Is that--the conquest of the spirit?" she gasped, and for aninstant the white-hot scorn in her eyes, flashing into his, hid anyhint of the fear in her. 

Involuntarily his grasp relaxed, and violently she wrenched her armaway and stood facing him, a little white-clad image of war, hereyes blazing, her breast heaving, a defiant child in her intrepiditywho gave him back look for look. 

In his eyes there glowed and battled a conflict of desires. For onemoment they seemed flaming at her from the dark, like some wildcreature ready to spring; the next moment they were human, recognizable. She read there grudging admiration, arrested ardor, irresolution, dubiety, and secret calculation. 

Then he put both hands behind him and bowed with ceremony. 

"The spirit, " he remarked dryly, "is worth the conquest. "

She said proudly, "You would not like your English friends to knowhow you treat a guest!"

At that she saw his lip curl in irony--at the mention of theEnglish, perhaps, or in disdain at the appearance of fearing athreat, however powerful that threat might be. He answered withcalmness, "It is not the English I am considering. .. . Nor have Itreated my guest so ill, _chère petite mademoiselle_. .. . If for themoment I mistook my cue--that look within your face--I ask grace formy stupidity. "

Suddenly she was frightened. He did not look like a man who whollysurrenders his desires. His eyes seemed to say to her, "Wait--thelast word has not been spoken!" She felt her knees trembling. 

With an effort she got out, "It is granted--but never again--mustyou misunderstand. An American girl----"

She stopped. There was a lump in her throat. Across a bright, familiar veranda she could hear a clear, sharp voice answer, "American goose!" She saw a lean tanned face burn red with anger. Awave of loneliness went through her. The irony of it was pitiless. How right Robert Falconer had been!

He was staring down at the table beside him, frowning, considering. She saw with peculiar distinctness how the cigarette he had droppedhad burned a hole in the fine linen. One of the candles was drippinglopsidedly. She thought some one ought to right it. She wondered ifthat soft step, hesitating, behind the curtains, was the servingwoman's, and she turned toward that doorway. 

"I don't think I care for any coffee, " she said, with an air ofcareless finality. "I think I will go back to my room. Goodevening. "

He followed her to the doorway, drawing aside the curtains as shepassed into the anteroom, and opening the door at the foot of thesteps, with an answering, "Good evening, " and an added, "Tillto-morrow, Mademoiselle. " And then, as the door closed below her, she paused on the dark stairs and huddled against the wall, listening to the faint footfalls from below, crossing andrecrossing. Then, when the silence seemed continual, she tiptoeddown the stairs again, softly pushed open the unlatched door, stoleacross the anteroom to the curtained doorway and peered in. 

The salon was empty, and in its center the supper table stoodstripped of its cloth and candles. Only the pale light from thewindows dispelled the growing dark. Like a little white wraith Arleefled through the room and turned the handle of the door at the headof the _haremlik_ stairs. The door was locked. 

She shook the handle, first cautiously, then with increasingviolence, then she ran back into the room to the nearest window, staring down through the screen. It would have been a steep jumpdown into the street, but her tense nerves would have dared itinstantly. Her hands tore at the _mashrubiyeh_, but the tinyspindles and delicate curves held sound and firm. She beat againstit with fierce little fists; she leaped against it with all hertrifling weight. It did not yield an inch. Was there iron in allthat delicacy? Or was that old wood impregnable in its grim trust?

Wildly she glanced back into the room. Suppose she took a chair andbeat at this carving--could she clear a way before the servantscame? Could she take the jump successfully? She gazed down into thestreet, estimating the fall, trying to calculate the hurt. 

As she gazed, her eyes grew fixed and filled with utter amazement. Down the street, on a black horse that arched his curving neck anddanced on light, fleet feet, rode a man in a uniform of green andgold. He sat erect, his clear-cut profile toward her. The nextinstant his horse, side-stepping at a blowing paper, turned his faceinto view. It was Captain Kerissen. 

Some one was stirring in the anteroom, and Arlee darted to the leftof the throne-chair and through the door there which stood ajar. She was in a dim salon, like the one that she had left, but smaller, and across from her was another door. She flew toward it, wild withthe hope of escape, and it opened before her eager hands. 

From the shadows of the room it disclosed came a figure with a quickcry. So suddenly it came, so tumultuously it threw itself toward herthat Arlee had a startled vision of bare arms, glittering withjeweled bands, arrested outstretched before her as the low gladnessof the cry broke in an angry guttural. Slowly the arms dropped in agesture of despair. She saw a face, distorted, passionate, growhaggard beneath its paint in the reversal of hope. 

"Madame!" stammered Arlee to that strange figure of her hostess. "Madame--Oh, pardon me, " she cried, snatching at her French, "buttell me how I can go away from here. Tell me----"

"_C'est toi--va-t-en!_" the woman answered in a voice of smotheredfury. She made a menacing gesture toward the door. "_Va-t-en_. "Suddenly her voice rose in a passion of angry phrases that wereindistinguishable to the girl, and then she broke off as suddenlyand flung herself down upon a couch. From behind her the old womancame shuffling forth and put a hand on Arlee's arm, and Arlee feltthe muscles of that hand as strong and rigid as a man's. Utterlyconfused and bewildered, the girl suffered herself to be led backthrough the rooms to the foot of her stairs. 

"Mariayah!" screamed the old woman, and after a moment the voice ofwaiting-maid answered from above, and then as Arlee dumbly ascendedthe stairs, the voice of the old woman rose with her in shrilladmonition. 

It was the voice of a jailer, thought the white-lipped girl, andthat little, dark-skinned maid who waited upon her so eagerly, withsuch sidelong glances of strange interest, was the tool of a jailer. And though the turning of the key in her own hand gave her amomentary sense of refuge from them, it was but a false illusion ofthe moment. There was neither refuge nor safety here. She was beingdeceived . .. 

The quarantine was lifted. 

How else could the Captain be cantering down the street? He didnot look like a man escaping. .. . Perhaps he had bribed thedoorkeeper--that which he had declared impossible for Arlee. .. . But certainly he was deceiving her. 

Like a swollen river bursting its banks, her racing mind, wild withsuspicion, surged out of its simple channels and swirled in everydirection. .. . What did he mean? What was he trying to do? Keep herin ignorance of the outside world, detain her as long as he daredwhile the Evershams' absence left her friendless, and inflict hisdreadful love-making upon her? Perhaps he thought that he couldfascinate her!

She laughed aloud, but it was such a ghostly little laugh that itset her nerves jumping. She stopped in her feverish pacing of thefloor; she tried to control her racing mind, she tried to be verycalm and to plan. 

Had he sent all those letters she had written? Steadily she staredat the possibility that he had not. But at least the Evershams knewwhere she was. Even the meager warmth of their telegram was like anoutstretched hand through the dark. She clung tight to it. 

It was absurd to be frightened. He would never dare to annoyher--never, in his sober senses. When they were alone together hehad lost his head, but that was accident--impulse. .. 

She rolled the divan against the locked door. She piled two chairsupon it. 

No, of course, she had nothing really to fear from him. He was toowise not to understand the gulf between them. To-morrow she wouldconfront him flatly with his deceit; she would array the power ofthe authorities behind her race. She would sweep instantly from thatill-omened palace. There would be no more philandering. 

Her lips moved as she silently rehearsed the mighty speeches thatshe would make, and all the while as she leaned there against awindow, staring strangely through the candle-light at the barricadebefore the door, she could think of nothing but how mad and unrealit all seemed--like some bad dream from which she would wake in aninstant. 

But she did not wake. The dream persisted, and the iron bars acrossher window were very tangible. Down below her in the garden the oldlebbek tree rustled stealthily in the stillness. Gusty clouds hidthe stars. In the distance the interminable tom-tom beat. 

She cast herself into the bed and cried convulsively, like adesperately frightened child, while the awful sense of terror andutter loneliness seemed to be rolling over and over her, like anunending sea. Her sobbing racked her from head to foot. She crieduntil she was spent with weakness. Then, her wet face still pressedagainst the pillow and her tangled hair flung out in disorderedcurls, she fell at last into the deep sleep of exhausted youth. 

She woke with a smothered cry. In the darkness a hand had touchedher. 

CHAPTER VI

A GIRL IN THE BAZAARS

Billy slapped on his hat with a clap of violence. She might havejust _seen_ him! Then he got up and marched down the steps. Therewas no more use in camping on that veranda. There was no more use inguarding that entrance. When a girl went whirling off in alimousine, "all dolled up" as his academic English put it, that girlwasn't going to be back in five minutes. And anyway he'd be blessedif he lay around in the way any longer like a doormat with "Welcome"inscribed upon the surface. 

So this spurt of masculine shame at his swift surrender to her, andhis masculine resentment at being ignored as she went by, sent himhurrying down the street resolved not to return till dinner. 

From habit his steps took him to the bazaars. But the zest of thatbright pageant was dulled for him. The color was gone even from thered canopies, and the excitement had vanished from the din ofnoises, the interest fled from the grave figures squatting in theircubby holes of shops draped with silky rags or sewing upon scarletslippers. He listened apathetically to the warring shouts of thedonkey boys and the anathemas of a jostled water carrier stoopingunder his distended goatskin, then dodged out of the way of agoaded donkey and turned into one of the passages where thefour-footed could not penetrate. 

For a few moments the bargaining over a silver bracelet between twobeturbaned and berobed Arabs caught the surface of his attention, and as the wrangling became a bedlam of imprecations, and theexplosive gestures made physical violence a development apparentlyof mere seconds, Billy's eyes brightened and he estimated chances. But as he picked his favorite there was one final frenzy of fury, and then--peace and joy, utter calm on the wild waters! One Arabcounted out the coins from a little leather bag about his neck andthe other passed over the bracelet, and with mutual salaams andsmiling speeches, behold! the affair was accomplished. 

Disgustedly Billy turned away. Then on the other side of him heheard a voice, a sweet and rather high voice, with a musicalintensity of inflection that was as English as the Union Jack. 

"Yes, it's _sweetly_ pretty, " the voice was saying irresolutely, "but I don't think I _quite_ care to--not at _that_ price. "

"I--I will buy it for you--yes?" said another voice. "It is made foryou--so 'sweetly pretty' as you say. "

Billy turned. A slim, tall girl in a dark blue frock was standingbefore a counter of Oriental jewelry, her head turned, with an airof startled surprise, to the man on the other side of her who hadjust spoken. He was a short, stout, blond man, heavily flushed, showily dressed, with a fulsome beam in his light-blue eyes and aningratiating grin beneath his upturned straw-colored mustaches. 

The girl turned her head away toward the shop-keeper and put backthe turquoise-studded buckle she held in her hand. "No, I do notcare for it, " she said in a steady voice whose coldness was for theintruder and turned away. 

Billy had a glimpse of scarlet cheeks and dark lashed eyes beforethe blond young man again took his attention. 

"You do not like it--no?" he said, blocking her path, his facethrust out to smile into hers. "But I buy you anything you wish--Imake you one present----"

The girl gave a quick look about. But she was in a pocket; for therewas no other exit to that line of shops but the path he wasblocking. All about her the dark-skinned venders and shoppers, thebearded men, the veiled women, the impish urchins, were watching theencounter with beady eyes of malicious interest. 

Billy took a quick step forward and touched the man on the arm. "Letthis lady pass, please, " he said. 

The German confronted him with blood-shot blue eyes that ceased tosmile and clearly welcomed the belligerency. 

"Gott! Who are you?" he derided. "Get out--get out the way. "

"Get out yourself, " said Billy, and stepping in front of the fellowhe extended a rigid arm, leaving a passage for the girl behind him. 

"Oh, thank you, " he heard her say, and as he half turned his head atthe grateful murmur he felt a sudden staggering blow on the side ofhis face. He whirled about, on guard, and as the man struck again, lunging heavily in his intoxication, Billy knocked up the fist as itcame. 

"You silly fool!" he said impatiently, and as the man made a blindrush upon him he caught him and by main force flung him off, but hisown foot struck something slippery and he lurched and went down, with a wave of intense disgust, into the dirt of the bazaars. Heheard a chorus of cries and imprecations about him; he jumped upinstantly, looking for his assailant, but the German was clinging tothe front of the jewelry booth. "Meet you--satisfaction--honor, " hewas saying stupidly. 

A native policeman elbowed his way through the throng, urging someArabic question upon Billy, who caught its import and replied withthe few sentences of reassurance at his command, pointing to thebanana peel as the cause of all. A fat dragoman had suddenlyappeared from nowhere and was hurriedly attempting to lead away theintoxicated one. 

"You in charge of him? Take him to his hotel and throw him in thetub, " said Billy curtly, and the dragoman replied with profoundrespect that he would do even as the heaven-born commanded. 

Brushing off his clothes Billy shouldered his way out of the throngand was met by two bright and grateful eyes and a slim, bare, outstretched hand. 

"Thank you _so_ much--I am _so_ sorry, " said the musical voice. 

"You shouldn't have waited, " said Billy, with a prompt pressure ofthe friendly little hand. "It might have been a real row. "

"I couldn't run away, " she said in serious protest at suchingratitude. "I had to see what happened to you. And I am so sorryabout your clothes. "

"Not hurt a particle--I chose a fortunate place to drop, " hereturned lightly, but distinctly chagrined that he _had_ dropped. 

"It was so fine of you, " she answered, "just to parry him likethat--when he'd been drinking. I saw what you did. " And then sheadded, very matter-of-factly, "And I'm afraid your nose is bleeding, too. "

Billy put up a startled hand. In the general soreness he had notnoticed that warm trickle. His whole face turned as scarlet as theshameless blood. Frantically he rummaged with the other hand. 

The girl thrust a square of white linen upon him. "Please takemine--it will ruin your clothes if it gets on them. "

Her immense practicality refused to be embarrassed in the least. Feeling immensely foolish Billy accepted hers, but then hediscovered his own handkerchief and stuffed hers away into hispocket. 

"You're a trump, " he said heartily. "And it's all right now--all butthe swelling, I suppose. " He sounded rueful. He had remembered hisengagement for the evening. 

Her head a little aslant, the girl regarded him critically. "N-no, it doesn't seem to be swelling, " she observed. "Of course it's alittle red but that will pass. "

They were walking side by side out of the narrow street and now, ona crowded corner, they paused and looked around. "I left MissFalconer at the Maltese laces, " she murmured, and to the laces theyturned their steps. 

Miss Falconer was still bargaining. She was a middle aged lady, Roman nosed and sandy-haired, and she brought to Billy in a rush therealization that she was "sister" and the girl was Lady ClaireMontfort. The story of the encounter and Billy's hero part, relatedby Lady Claire, appeared most disturbing to the chaperon. 

"How awkward--how very awkward, " she murmured, several times, andBilly gathered from her covert glance upon him that part of theawkwardness consisted in being saddled with his acquaintance. Then, "Very nice of you, I'm sure, " she added. "I hope the creature isn'tlingering about somewhere. .. . We'd better take a cab, Claire--I'msure we're late for tea. "

"Let me find one, " said Billy dutifully, and charging into themedley of vehicles he brought forth a victoria with what appeared tobe the least villainous looking driver and handed in the ladies. 

"Savoy Hotel, isn't it?" he added thoughtlessly, and both ladies'countenances interrogated him with a varying _nuance_ of question. 

"I remember noticing you, " he hastily explained. "I'm not exactly aprivate detective, you know, "--the assurance seemed to leave MissFalconer cold--"but I do remember people. And then I heard youspoken of by Miss Beecher. "

The name acted curiously upon them. They looked at each other. Thenthey looked at Billy. Miss Falconer spoke. 

"Perhaps we can drop you at your hotel, " said she. "Won't you getin?"

He got in, facing them a little ruefully with his damagedcountenance, and subtly aware that this accession of friendlinesswas not a gush of airy impulse. 

"You know Miss Beecher then?" said Miss Falconer with briskdirectness. 

"Slightly, " he said aloud. To himself he added, "So far. "

"Ah--in America?"

"No, in Cairo. "

Miss Falconer looked disappointed. "But perhaps you know herfamily?"

"No, " said Billy. He added humorously, "But I'll wager I could guessthem all right. "

"Can you Americans do that for one another? That is more than we canventure to do for you, " said the lady, and Billy was aware of irony. 

"We know so little about your life, you see, " the girl softened itfor him, with a direct and friendly smile, and then gazed watchfullyat her chaperon. She was a nice girl, Billy decided emphatically. 

"How would you construct her family?" was the elder lady's nextdemand. 

"Oh, big people in a small town, " he hazarded carelessly. "The kindof place where the life isn't wide enough for the girl after all her'advantages' and she goes abroad in search of adventure. "

"Adventure, " repeated Miss Falconer thoughtfully. She seemed tohave an idea, but Billy was certain it was not his idea. 

He hastened to clarify the light he had tried to cast upon hisupsetting little countrywoman. "All life, you know, is an adventureto the American girl, " he generalized. "She is a little bit more onher own than I imagine your girls are, " and for the fraction of asecond his eyes wandered to the listening countenance of LadyClaire, "and that rather exhilarates her. And she doesn't wantthings cut and dried--she wants them spontaneous and unexpected--andpeople, just as people, interest her tremendously. I think that'swhy she's so unintelligible on the Continent, " he addedthoughtfully. "They don't understand there that girlish love ofexperience as experience--enjoyment of romance apart from results. "

"Romance apart from results, " repeated Miss Falconer in a peculiarvoice. 

"I don't believe you quite get me, " said Billy hastily. He feltfoolish and he felt resentful. And if these English women couldn'tunderstand the bright, volatile stuff that Arlee was made of, hecertainly was not going to talk about it. But Miss Falconer had onemore question for him. 

"When you say big people in a small town do you mean her fatherwould be a sort of country squire?"

"More probably a captain of industry, " Billy smiled. 

"A captain--Oh, that is one of your phrases!"

"One of our phrases, " he laughed, and then parried, "I thought youwere acquainted with Miss Beecher?"

"Quite slightly, " said Miss Falconer in an aloof tone. "My brothercame over on the same ship with her--he came to join us here. "

Billy experienced a flood of mental light. The brother--at the hotelhe had discovered that his name was Robert Falconer--was coming tojoin his elder sister and her young charge. He had come on the samesteamer as Miss Beecher. Ergo, he was staying at the hotel whereMiss Beecher was and not with his sister. Billy comprehended theanxiety of the lady with the Roman nose. He looked at Lady Clairewith a certain sympathy. 

He caught her own eyes reconnoitering, and they each looked hastilyaway. 

Again Miss Falconer returned to her attack. "Then you really knownothing positive of Miss Beecher's family?"

"Nothing in the world, " said Billy cheerfully. "But why not ask MissBeecher?"

The lady made no reply. "Miss Beecher is a beautiful girl, " saidLady Claire hastily. "She's _so_ beautiful that I suppose we are allrather curious about her--of course people _will_ ask about a girllike that!"

"Of course, " said Billy, and Lady Claire, perceiving that heresented this catechism about his young countrywoman, and MissFalconer perceiving that nothing was to be gotten out of him, theconversation was promptly turned into other channels, the vague, general channels of comment upon Cairo. 

 * * * * *

The Evershams dined alone. Alternately, from their table to thedoorway went Billy's eager eyes, but no vision with shining curlsand laughing eyes appeared. Evidently she had stayed to dine withwhatever people she had gone to see. Robert Falconer was watchingthat table, too. .. . Perhaps she would not return till late; perhapshe would have only a tiny time with her that evening. .. . And he hadnot been able to buy out that man's berth upon the steamer. .. . 

Consommé and whitebait, _boeuf rôti_ and _haricots vert_ and_crême de cérises_ succeeded one another in deepening gloom. Thewhole dinner over, and she had not appeared!

He went out to the lounge and smoked with violence. Presently he sawthe Evershams in the doorway talking to Robert Falconer, and hejumped up and hurried to join them. As he approached he heard theword Alexandria spoken fretfully by Mrs. Eversham. 

"Good evening, good evening, " said Billy hurriedly to the ladies, and being a young man of simple directness, undeterred by theglacial tinge of the ladies' response--they had not forgotten hisdefection of the evening before when they were entertaining him sonicely--he put the question which had been tormenting him allevening, "Where is Miss Beecher to-night?"

"Alexandria, " said Mrs. Eversham again, and this time there was ahint of malicious satisfaction in her voice. 

"Alexandria?" Billy was incredulous. "Why I--I understood she was togo up the Nile to-morrow morning. "

"She was, but she has changed her mind. She had word from somefriends of hers while we were out this afternoon and she flew rightoff to join them. "

"You mean she isn't going up the Nile at all now?"

"I haven't an idea what she is going to do. She is not in our careany longer. And I don't suppose the boat company will do anythingabout her stateroom at this late date--certainly she can't expect usto go to any trouble about it. "

"She left us half her packing to do, " Clara Eversham contributed, addressing Falconer with plaintive mien, "and her hotel bill to pay. She is the most unexpected creature!"

Two young men silently and heartily concurred. 

"What was her hurry?" Billy demanded. 

"Oh, she's going camping in the desert with them--that sort of thingwould fascinate her, you know. Her telegram wasn't very clear. Shejust sent a wire from the station, I think, or from Cook's, withsome money for her bill by the boy. So careless, trusting him likethat!"

"I don't suppose he brought it all, " Mrs. Eversham declared. "Yousee, she didn't say how much she was sending--just said it wasenough for her bill. "

Billy looked at Falconer. He admired the stolidity of thatsandy-haired young man's countenance. He envied the unrevealingblankness of his eyes. 

"May I ask where she is stopping in Alexandria?" he persisted. 

Mrs. Eversham shook her head. "She didn't give any address--the besthotel, I suppose, whatever that is. "

"The Khedivial, " Falconer supplied. 

"She just said to send her things to Cook's and to write to herthere and she would write when she came back. She had been expectingto meet those friends, the Maynards, later, but we had no idea thatshe was going to run off with them like this. It's very upsetting. "

"We shall miss her, " said Clara Eversham suddenly, with a note ofsincerity that made Billy warm to her a trifle. So he bestirredhimself getting their after dinner coffee and remembered to sendMohammed for the cream for her, and listened with a show ofattention to their interminable anecdotes and corrections. But hismind was off on the way to Alexandria. .. . 

Not a word of farewell. Of course, they had not exactly arrived, inthose twenty-four hours, at a correspondence stage, but still shehad made a positive engagement for that evening--and she had knownhe was trying to buy that berth. Only that morning she had listenedto his account of his endeavors with a mischievous light in her blueeyes and a prankish smile edging her pink lips . .. And she might, after that, have left just a line to tell him to cancel hisarrangements. .. . But what could he expect from such a tricksy spriteof a girl? Only twenty-seven hours before he had seen her, flagrantly tardy, nonchalantly unrepentant, first mock and thenannihilate the worthy and earnest young Englishman who hadendeavored to correct her ways . .. He had known then the volatilestuff that she was made of--and had succumbed to it!

But he _had_ succumbed. On that point he was most disastrouslycertain. The memory of the young girl possessed him. Her beautyhaunted him, that spring-like beauty with its enchanting youth andgaiety. And the spirit that animated that beauty, that young, blithe, innocently audacious spirit which looked out on the worldwith such sunnily trustful eyes, drew him with a golden cord. 

 * * * * *

He smoked many a pipe over it that night, his feet on the openwindow ledge, his eyes on the far-spreading flat roofs, the distantdomes and minarets darkly silhouetted against the sky of softest, deepest blue. The stars were silver bright. They spangled the heavenwith the radiance they never give to northern skies; they gleamedlike bright, wild creatures on their unearthly revels. .. . It wouldbe glorious camping in the desert on a night like this . .. Heaven bepraised, he had not bought that berth . .. Alexandria . .. TheMaynards . .. The desert . .. 

He knocked out the ashes from his last pipe and rose briskly. Hisdecision was made, but its success was on the knees of the great godLuck. 

CHAPTER VII

BILLY HAS HIS DOUBTS

The encounter in the bazaars that Thursday afternoon brought onemore result to young Hill besides the bruise upon his chin and theprivilege of bowing to Lady Claire and her vigilant chaperon, andthe presence of Lady Claire's little handkerchief in his coatpocket. 

It brought a young German, scrupulously sober, soberly apologetic, in formal state to Billy's hotel upon Friday morning, whose cardannounced him to be Frederick von Deigen and whose speech proclaimedhim to be utterly aghast at his own untoward behavior. 

"I was not myself, " he owned, with a sigh and a melancholy twist ofhis upstanding mustaches. "I had been lunching alone--and it is badto lunch alone when one has a sadness. One drinks--to forget. .. . Butyou are too young to understand. " He waved his hand in compliment toBilly's youth, then continued, with increasing energy, "But when Ifind what _dummheit_ I have done--how I have so rudely addressed theyoung Fräulein with you, and have used my fists upon you, even tothe point of hurling you upon the street--I have no words for myshame. "

"Oh, it wasn't exactly a hurl, " Billy easily amended. "There was abanana peel where my heel happened to be--and I wasn't halfscrapping. I could see you weren't yourself. "

"Indeed no! Would I, " he struck himself gloomily upon the breast, "would I intrude upon a young Fräulein, and attack her protector? Itwas that bottle--that last bottle. .. . I knew--at the time. .. . Ioffer you my apology. I can do no more--unless you would havesatisfaction--no?"

"I guess I had all the satisfaction that was coming to meyesterday, " said Billy. "You've got a fist like a professional. Butthere's no harm done. .. . Only you want to get over taking that lastbottle and offering presents to young ladies, " he concluded, with anaccent of youthful severity. 

The German nodded a depressed head. His melancholy, bloodshot eyesfixed themselves sadly upon Billy. "Ach, it is so, " he assentedmeekly, "but when one has a sadness--" He sighed. 

"Yes, of course, that's tough, " agreed Billy sympathetically. "Ihate a sadness. "

"Perhaps you have known--?" The other's eyes lifted toward him, thendropped dispiritedly. "But, no, you are too young. But I--Ach!" Headded in his own tongue a line of which Billy caught _geliebt_ and_gelebt_, and so nodded understandingly. 

"That geliebing business is bad stuff, " he returned, and again theother tugged at his mustaches with a nervous hand and shook his bigblond head. 

"She was to have met me here, " he said abruptly. "She wrote--I wasto come quick--and then she comes not. That is woman, the _ewigeweibliche_. " He scowled. "But, Gott, how enchantment was in her!"

Billy heard himself sigh in unison. The phrase suggested Arlee. Andthe situation was not dissimilar. He felt a positive sympathy forthe big blond fellow in his pronounced clothes and glossy boots andcareful boutonnière. .. . He smiled in friendly fashion. 

"She'll come along yet, " he prophesied, "and if she doesn't, justyou go out after her. I wouldn't take too many chances in thewaiting game. "

The German shook his head. His blue eyes swam with sentimentalmoisture. "You do not understand, " he said. "She went withanother--I must wait for her to come away. I have no address--so?"

"Well, that--that's different, " stammered the young American. Hissympathy became cynical. Fishy business--but even a fishy businesshas its human side. So presently he found himself gazinginterestedly upon the photograph the German displayed in the back ofhis watch--the photograph of a decolleté young woman withprovocative dark eyes and parted lips and pearl-like teeth, and heshook the caller's hand most heartily in parting, and prophesied, with fine assurance, the successful end of this fishy romance. 

"You have a heart, my friend, " said the German solemnly, and liftinghat and stick and lemon-colored gloves from the table, he bowedprofoundly in farewell. 

"And to the Fräulein--you will give my so deep apology?" he addedearnestly, and Billy assured him that he would. And he foundhimself, for all his pre-occupation with the vision of Arlee'sspring-like beauty, by no means displeased at the errand. A man musthave something to do while he is waiting--if he is to avoid lastbottles! He would seek her out that very afternoon. 

 * * * * *

But by afternoon he was tearing upstairs and downstairs through thehotel after a very different quarry, which at last he ran to earthat a tiny table behind a palm on the veranda. The quarry was furtherprotected by an enveloping newspaper, but Billy did not stand onceremony. 

"I want to talk to you, " said he. 

Falconer looked up. He recognized Billy perfectly, though his gazegave no admission of that. This tall young fellow with the deep-setgray eyes and the rugged chin and the straight black hair he firstremembered seeing dancing that Wednesday evening with Arlee--aftertheir own disastrous tea and its estrangement. Arlee had appeared onmystifyingly good terms with him, though he was positive from hisown observations, and had corroboration from the Evershams, that shehad never spoken to him until five minutes before. Then the fellowhad fairly grilled the Evershams about the girl's whereabouts lastnight. And he had learned that the previous afternoon he had managedto take Claire's protection upon himself in the bazaars, actuallyconvincing her that she ought to feel indebted to him, and haddriven back with them. .. . An unabashed intruder, that fellow! Heought to have a lesson. 

His air of unwelcome deepened, if possible, as Billy helped himselfto a chair, drew it confidentially close to him and cast a carefulglance about the veranda. 

"I don't want anyone to hear this, " he explained. 

Falconer smiled cynically. He had met confidential young Americansbefore. There was nothing they could sell _him_. 

"It's about Miss Beecher. " Billy looked uncomfortable. He hesitated, blushed boyishly through his tan, and blurted, "There's somethingmighty queer about that departure of hers yesterday. "

"Ah!"

"I don't feel right about it. .. . It's deuced queer. She isn't inAlexandria. "

"Ah!"

"If you say 'Ah' again, I hope you choke, " said Billy violently tohimself. Aloud he continued, "I wired to the Khedivial and to allthe other hotels--there are just a few--and she isn't registeredthere, and the Maynards are not, either. "

"Possibly staying with friends, " said Falconer indifferently. Heregarded his paper. 

"Very few Americans have friends in Alexandria. However, that mightbe so. But no ship has arrived from the Continent for three days, and it seems mighty odd, if they were there three days ago, for themto have wired at the last minute and had her tear off like that. "

"I do not pretend to account for your compatriots, " said thesandy-haired young man. 

Billy looked at him a minute. "There's no use in your beingdisagreeable, " he remarked. "I didn't thrust myself upon you becauseI was attracted to you, at all. But I thought you were a sensible, masculine human being who was interested in Miss Beecher'swhereabouts. "

"I beg your pardon, " said the other young man. "I am--I mean I aminterested--if you think there is anything really wrong. But I donot see your point. "

"Well, now, see if you can see this. I wired the consul there andsome other fellow at the port, and they wired back that no people ofthe name of Maynard have arrived on any of the boats for the pasttwo weeks--that was as far back as they looked up. Now that's_queer_. "

"He could be mistaken--or they could have bought some one else'saccommodations--and that would account for the hastiness of theirplans, " Falconer argued. 

"But what train did she go on?"

"What train? Why, the express for Alexandria. "

"That left at eight-thirty. Now why in the world would she rush awayin the middle of the afternoon, sending a telegram from the stationand leaving her packing undone, for an eight-thirty train?"

"Why I--I really can't say. She may have had errands----"

"Where did she have her dinner? Did she dine with friends at some ofthe hotels? What friends has she here?"

"I really can't say as to that, either. I wasn't aware that she hadany. "

"And where did she send that telegram from? There isn't a copy ofany such telegram at the offices I've been to--at Cook's or thestation. It might have been written on a telegraph blank and sent upby messenger with the money--but why not come herself, with all thattime on her hands? And nobody remembers selling her any ticket toAlexandria--and you know anybody would remember selling anything toa girl like that. "

Falconer was silent. 

"And nobody at Cook's paid out any money on her letter of credit--orcashed any express checks for her. Where did that money come fromthat was sent back to the hotel?"

"But what is the point of all this?"

"That's what I just particularly don't know. .. . But it needs lookinginto. "

Falconer favored him with a level scrutiny. "How long have you knownMiss Beecher?"

"I met her the night before last. That, however, doesn't enter intothe case. "

"It would seem to me that it might. "

"Between three days and three weeks, " said Billy, rememberingsomething, "the difference is sometimes no greater than betweenTweedledum and Tweedledee. " He smiled humorously at the other youngman, a frank, likeable smile that softened magically the bluntnessof his young mouth. "That's why I came to you. You are the only soulI know to be interested in Miss Beecher's welfare. The Evershams areoff up the Nile--and they'd probably be helpless, anyway. Besides, you know more about this blamed Egypt of yours than I do. .. . Haveyou any idea where she went yesterday afternoon?"

"Not at all. "

"Neither have the Evershams. They were surprised when I asked themabout it this morning. They didn't know she was going. Now she wentsomewhere in a limousine----"

"Probably to the station. "

"American girls don't go to stations in floating white clothes andhats all pink roses. I particularly remember the pink rose, " saidBilly gloomily. "No, if she had been going to the station she wouldhave had on a little blue or gray suit, very up and down, and alittle minute of a hat with just one perky feather. And she'd have abag of sorts with her--no girl would rush away to Alexandria withouta bag. "

"She could have sent it ahead of her or returned and dressed laterfor the station. "

"Why the mischief did I tramp off to those bazaars?" said the youngAmerican. "But, see here--weren't you around the hotel after thatyesterday--at tea time?"

"Er--yes--I----"

"And weren't you rather looking out for Miss Beecher? Wouldn't youhave noticed if she had been coming or going?"

Falconer stroked his small mustache and shot a look at Billy out ofthe corners of his eyes which expressed his distinct annoyance atthese intrusive demands. 

"I don't remember to have met you, " said he slowly. 

"You haven't. I know your name, but you don't know mine. I amWilliam B. Hill. "

"Ah--Behill. "

"No--_B. _ Hill. The B is an initial. "

"Of what?" said the other casually, and Billy's cheeks grew suddenlywarm. 

"Of my middle name, " said he, with steady composure. "If we are todo any team-work you will have to let it go at the William and theHill. "

"What team-work do you suggest?"

"Find out where she went yesterday. Find out where she is now. Whatworries me, " he burst out, with ungovernable uneasiness, yet with ahint of humor at his own extravagant imaginings, "is her talking tothat Turk fellow yesterday--that Captain Kerissen, I think shecalled him. She had told me the night before that he was going toget her some ball tickets or other, and I didn't think anything ofit, but yesterday I thought he had his nerve to come and call uponher. You see, I passed through the hall and saw them talking. I wentout to the veranda and after he had gone I came in again, but shewas nowhere in sight. Then I went back to the veranda, and in a fewmoments she came out, in white with a rose on her hat, and went offin a car that was ready. Of course Kerissen wasn't in the car, and Ihaven't any proof of his connection with the thing, but he mighteasily have induced her to look at some mosque or other off the'beaten track'----"

"But she returned, for later she sent that telegram from thestation, " Falconer argued. 

Billy was silent. Then he burst out, "But all the same there is amystery to this thing. .. . She--she's too confoundedly young andpretty to run around alone in this painted jade of a city. "

"This city has law and order--much more of them than there are inyour national hotbeds of robbery and murder. "

"H'm--well, I don't hold any brief for Chicago--I suppose Chicago isthe target--so I won't defend that. But I've heard stories. "

"Queer ones, I should say. "

"_Devilish_ queer ones!. .. How about that young Monkton or Monkhousewho dropped out of things last winter?"

Falconer looked annoyed. "Oh, there are rumors----"

"Yes, rumors that he flirted with a Turkish lady--that he was onhorseback just outside her carriage during the jam at theKasr-el-Nil bridge, and they looked and smiled and afterwards met ina shop. And rumors that she gave him a _rendezvous_ at her home andthat he told another man about it at the club, who warned himsharply, and he only laughed. .. . But it's no rumor that hedisappeared. He's gone, all right, and nobody knows where he went, and nobody seems to want to know. Officially they said he wasdrowned out swimming--or lost in a sandstorm riding in thedesert--or spiked on top of an obelisk or something equallyreasonable--but, privately, people say other things. .. . Nointernational law intrudes into the Turkish woman question. "

"What of it?" Falconer looked stubborn. "I daresay the fellowreceived his deserts. .. . But the case hardly applies--what?"

"Well--it makes one feel that anything can happen here--that thecity is quicksand where a chance step would engulf one. " Billystared frowningly out on the vivid street ahead of him. A prettyEnglish bride and her soldier husband were out exercising theirdogs. Two ladies in a victoria were advertising their toilettes. Ablond baby toddled past with his black nurse. It was all verypeaceful and charming. It did not look like quicksand. .. . Into thepicture came a one-eyed man with a stuffed crocodile on his head, stalking slowly along, scanning the veranda with his single, penetrating eye, calling his wares in harsh gutturals, and with himcame suddenly the sense of that strange background before which allthis bright tourist life was played, that dark watching, secretEast, curious and incalculable. 

Falconer folded his paper with a sharp crackle that recalled youngHill's wandering thought. "That's all very well, but it doesn'tapply, " he observed, with conviction. 

"Then where is she?" Billy was bluntly belligerent. 

The other put his paper in his pocket. "In Alexandria, to be sure, and not at all pleased, either, to have you bring her name into suchquestioning. " He looked squarely at Billy as he said that, and theeyes of the two young man met and exchanged a secret challenge ofhostility. 

Billy rose. "Oh, all right, " he returned. "I daresay I am as much afool as you take me for. .. . She may be all right. But if not--Ithought I'd give you a chance to take a hand in it. "

"The sporting chance, " said Falconer, with an appreciable smile. "I'm much obliged--but I don't at all share your misgivings. .. . Andwhat in the world do you propose to do about it?"

For a minute Billy's gaze blankly interrogated the sunlit distances. His eyes were fixed, but empty; his forehead knitted in an uncertainfrown. Then quite suddenly he turned and flashed at Falconer a lookof odd and unforeseen decision. 

"I'm going to buy a crocodile, " he imparted, with a wide, boyishgrin. "I'm going to buy a crocodile of a one-eyed man. "

Stolidly Falconer eyed his departing back. Stolidly, definitely, comprehensively, he pronounced judgment. "Mad, " said he. "Mad as theMarch Hare. "

CHAPTER VIII

THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR

That stealthy touch brought Arlee half upright, shot with ghastlyalarms. Her heart stopped beating; it stood still in the cold clutchof terror. The breath seemed to have left her body. 

Once more she felt the hands gropingly upon her. It came from theback side of her bed, reaching apparently from the very wall. Andthen she heard a voice whispering, "Be still--I do not hurt you. Bestill. "

It was a woman's voice, soft, sibilant, hushed, and the frozen gripof fear was broken. She was trembling now uncontrollably. 

"Who is there?"

"S-sh!" came the warning response, and then, her eyes staring intothe shadowy recess, she saw the curtains at the back side of the bedwere parting as a figure appeared between them. 

"Give me a box, a book--somethings to put here in this lock, "commanded the voice peremptorily, and in a daze Arlee found herselfextending a magazine across the bed toward the half-seen figure, whoturned and busied herself about the curtains a moment, then camestraight across the bed into the room beside Arlee. 

"Now you see who I am, " said the astonishing intruder calmly. 

Mutely Arlee shook her head, seeing only a figure about her ownheight clad in a dark negligée. Dumfounded she stood watching whileher visitor deliberately lighted a candle. 

"So--that is better, " she observed, and in the light of the tinytaper between them the two stood facing each other. 

Arlee saw a girl some years older than herself, a small, plump, rounded creature, with a flaunting and insouciant prettiness. Hereyes were dark and bright, her babyish lips were full and scarlet, her nose was whimsically uptilted. Dark hair curled closely to thevivid face and fell in ringlets over the white neck. 

"You don't know me?" she said in astonishment at Arlee's eyes ofwonder. "He has not told you?" Incredulity, impertinent and mocking, darted out of the dark eyes. "What you think then--you what got myroom?"

"Your room?" Arlee echoed faintly. She flung a quivering hand towardthe bed. "How did you get in here? I locked the door----"

"You see how I came--I came by the panel, " She waited a moment, watching the wide blue eyes before her, the parted lips, the whitecheeks in which the blood was slowly stealing back, and incredulitygave way to astonished acceptance. "You don't know that, either?That is very funny. "

"Did you lock it?" was Arlee's next breathless question. "What wasthat you said about putting in a magazine? Did you leave it open?"

The other girl reached quickly and caught her arm, as Arlee turnedtoward the bed. "No, no, if it goes shut we cannot open it inside, "she warned. "It does not open this side unless you have the key. Itopens from without. But he will not come in now--he is at theKhedive's palace. We are all right. "

"But I want to get away, " cried Arlee. She turned upon this othergirl great eyes of pitiful entreaty, eyes where the dark shadowsabout them lay like cruel bruises on the white flesh. "I must getaway at once. Won't you help me?"

"Help you? I would help myself, if I could. But there is no way out. It is no use. " The unknown girl spoke with a bitterness that broughtconviction. Piteously the flare of hope and spirit wilted. 

"You are sure?" she questioned faintly. "There is no way out?"

"No way, no way!" The other shook her head impatiently. "Do I notknow? Let us talk of that again. Now I came to see you, to see whatpretty face had sent me packing!" She laughed, but there wasugliness in the laughter, and catching up the candle she held itbefore Arlee, her face impudently close, her eyes black darts ofcuriosity. 

"Well you are pretty enough, " she said coolly. "Hamdi has always thegood taste. But do you think you will keep my room from me--h'm?"

"I do not want your room, " said Arlee with passionate intensity. "I do not want to stay here. I want only to go away. Oh, there mustbe a way. Please help me--please. " She choked and broke down, thetears hot in her eyes. 

 [Illustration: "'I do not want to stay here'"]

The other girl abruptly drew her down on the couch and settledherself beside her among the cushions. "Here--be comfortable--let usbe comfortable and talk, " she said. "Do not cry so--What, you are sosoon sorry? You want to be off?"

Desperately Arlee steadied her shaking voice. "I must go at once. "

"You got enough so soon?"

"Enough!" was the quivering echo. 

"What you come for then?"

"Come for? I did not know what I was coming into. I thought--buttell me, " she broke off to demand, "tell me about the plague. Wasthere any quarantine at all? How soon was it over? What is reallyhappening?"

"Quar--quar--what you mean?"

"The plague? Has there been a plague here? Have people had to stayin the palace on account of it?"

"Oh--h!" The indrawn breath was eloquent of enlightenment. "Is thatsomethings he said to you?"

"Yes, yes. Isn't it true? Wasn't there any plague?"

With eyes of dreadful apprehension she saw the other shake her headin vigorous denial. "No plague, " she said decisively. "My maid--sheknow everything. No sickness here. "

"Then it was all a lie. " Arlee's eyes fixed themselves on thedancing candle flame, swaying in the soft night air. She tried tothink very coolly and collectedly, but her brain felt numb andfogged and heavy. The sight of that tortured candle flame hypnotizedher. Faintly she whispered, "Then it was all--an excuse, " and, atthat, sharp terror, like a knife, cleaved her numbness. She turnedfuriously to her visitor. 

"But he would not dare make it all up!"

She saw the callousness of the shrug. "Why not--he is the masterhere!" Her own heart echoed fearfully the words. She stammered, "But--but I wrote--I had a letter--there must----"

"What in all the world are you saying?" demanded the other. "What isthis story?" and as Arlee began the quick, whispered narration shelistened intently, her little dark head on one side, nodding wiselyat intervals. 

"So--you came to have tea, " she repeated at the close, in herquaintly inflected, foreign-sounding English. "And you stay becauseof the plague? So?"

"But I wrote--I wrote to my friends and----"

"And gave him the letters!"

"But I had a letter from my friends--or a telegram rather. " Arleeknitted her brows in furious thought. "And it sounded like her. "

"Does he know her, that friend?" questioned the other and at Arlee'snod, "Then he could write it himself--that is easy on telegraphpaper. He is so clever, that devil, Hamdi. "

"But my friends knew where I was going"--slowly the mind turned backto trace the blind, careless steps of that afternoon. "At least hesaid he'd leave a note--Oh, what a fool I was!" she broke off togasp, seeing how that forethought of his, that far-sighted remark, had prevented her from leaving a note of her own. And she rememberednow, with flashing clearness, that upon her arrival he hadcarelessly inquired if she, too, had left a note of explanation. Howlightly she had told him no! And what unguessed springs of actioncame perhaps from that single word! For so cleverly had the trapbeen swiftly prepared that if anything had gone wrong, if anyone hadbecome aware of her intentions, it could have passed off as a visitand she would have returned to her hotel prattling joyously of herwonderful glimpse into the seclusion of Turkish aristocracy!

"But the soldier with the bayonet, " she said aloud. "There was oneon the stairs. "

"A servant. "

"Oh, if I had passed him!"

"You could not--he would run you through on a nod from Hamdi. Theywatch that stairs always--day and night. "

Day and night--and she was alone here, in this grim palace, aloneand helpless and forsaken. .. . What were her friends thinking abouther? Where did they think she was? Her thoughts beat desperatelyupon that problem, trying to find there some ray of hope, somepromise that there were clues which would lead them to her, but shefound nothing there but deeper mystery and fearful surmise. He wasclever enough to cover his traces. No one had known of hisconnection with her departure. .. . Perhaps he had sent them somefalse and misleading message like the one he had sent her. .. . Whatwere they thinking? What did they believe? This was Friday night, and she had been gone since Thursday afternoon. 

In that moment she saw with merciless clarity the bitter straitsthat she was in. 

"Oh, he is a devil!" her companion was reaffirming with an angrylittle half-whisper sibilant with fury. "Look how he treat me--me, Fritzi Baroff! You do not know me? You do not know that name? InVienna it is not so unknown--Oh, God, I was so happy in Vienna!" Shestopped, her breast heaving, with the flare of emotion, then went onquickly, with suppressed vehemence, "I was a singer--in the lightopera. I dance, too, and I was arriving. Only this year I was tohave a fine rôle--and it all went, zut, it all went for that man! Iwas one fool about him, and his dark eyes and his strange ways. .. . Ithought I had a prince. And he worship me then, too--he follow me, he give me big diamonds. .. . So he take me here--it was to be thevacation!"

She gave a strangling little laugh. Arlee was listening with apainful intensity. She was living, she thought, in an Arabiannights. 

"I stay at the hotel first till he make this like a privateapartment for me, " went on the little dancer, "and when I come herehe do everything for me. I have luxury, yes, jewels and dresses anda fine new car. Then, by and by, I grow tired. It was always thesame and he was at the palace, much. And he would not let me makeacquaintance. We quarrel, but still I have a fancy for him, andthen, you understand, money is not always so easy to find. Life canbe hard. But I get more restless, I want to go back on the stage andI, well, I write some letters that he finds out. _Bang_, goes thedoor upon me! He laugh like a fiend. He say that I am to be a littleTurkish lady to the end of my life. Oh, God, he shut me up like aprisoner in this place, and I can do nothing--nothing--nothing!"

She beat out angry emphasis on the palm of one hand with a clenchedlittle fist. "I go nearly mad. I lose my head. He laugh--he is likethat. He is a devil when he turns against you, and, you understand, he had somethings new to play with now. .. . Sometimes he seem to loveme as before, and then I would grow soft and coax that he take me toEurope some day, and then when I think he mean it--Oh, how helaugh!" She drew in her breath sharply. "Sometimes I think he willtake me again--sometime--but I cannot tell. And the days never end. They are terrible. My youth is going, going. And my youth is all Ihave. "

She looked at Arlee with eyes where her terror was visible, and allthe lines of her pretty, common little face were changed andsharpened, and her babyish lips dragged down strangely at thecorners. 

A surge of pity went through Arlee Beecher. "Oh, you will escape, "she heard herself saying eagerly. "And I will escape--or--or----"

"Or?"

"Or I will kill myself, " she whispered quiveringly. 

The little Viennese stared hard at her, and a sudden crinkle ofamusement darted across the bright shallows of her eyes. "Come, love is not so bad, " she said, "and Hamdi can be charming. " Then asshe saw a shudder run through the young girl before her, "Oh, if youdo not fancy him!" she cried airily, yet with a keen look. 

But Arlee's two hands sought and covered up the scarlet shame in herface. She did not cry; she felt that every tear in her was dried inthat bitter flame. Her whole body seemed on fire, burning with furyand revulsion and that awful sense of humiliation. 

The other stirred restively, "Come, do not cry--I hate people tocry. It makes everything so worse. And do not talk of killing. It isnot so easy anyway, that killing. Do I not think I will die and endall when my rage is hot--but how? How? I cannot beat my head outagainst the wall like a Russian. I cannot stick a penknife in mythroat or eat glass. To do that one must be a monster of courage. And I have no poison to eat, no gas to turn on. .. . Then the moodgoes and the day is bright and I look in the glass and say, 'Die?Die for you? Kill all this beautiful young thing that has such joyto dance and sing? Never! Some day I will be out of this and laughat the memory of such blackness. ' And so I practice my voice and mysteps--and I wait my chance. When you came, yesterday, first I wasfurious to be pushed out, then I think it is the chance, maybe. Ithink you would be glad to help me to get out and not to stay tomake you jealous. But if you are also in the trap----" Her voicefell dispiritedly. She drew a long, weary breath. 

"But I shall not stay in the trap. " Arlee spoke with desperateresolve, her eyes on the sputtering candle, her palms against herburning cheeks, her finger tips pressed into her throbbing temples. "I shall not let him make me afraid like this. He must know he willbe found out--he cannot play like this with an American girl! Ishall face him to-morrow. I shall demand my freedom. I shall tellhim that I did tell people at the hotel--that he will be discovered. I will make _him_ afraid!"

"You cannot. He watches what happens on the outside--he knows. "

After a pause, "Oh, why did I come!" said Arlee in chokingbitterness. 

The little dancer turned, and, sitting there cross-legged on thecouch like a squat little idol, her chin sunk in her palm, her darkeyes staring unwinkingly at Arlee, gave the girl a long, strangescrutiny. 

"You do not like him?" she said. 

"I hate him!"

"But you came to tea?"

"To meet his sister. To see the palace. "

"His sister? Did he show you one?"

"Yes--a woman with red hair. A Turkish woman. She spoke French tome. "

"Ah--that would be Seniha!"

"Seniha? I don't know. She played the piano. Has he more than onesister?"

But as she put the question a sudden flash of intuition forestalledthe dancer's mocking cry of "Sister!" And as Fritzi hurried on, "Hehas no sister--not here, anyway, " Arlee's thoughts ran back to thebeginning of that very evening which seemed so long ago when she hadplunged wildly into those unknown rooms, and saw again thatpainted, jeweled woman with her outstretched arms. 

"She is his wife, " the Viennese was saying. 

"I--I did not know that he was married. "

"Oh, Turkish marriages. " The other shrugged, with a contempt atrifle droll in one who had dispensed with every ceremony. "She washis second. The first was a little girl, he said. The match was madefor him. She is dead. This Seniha was her cousin, a cousin who wasdivorced and she lived with the wife. And our pretty Hamdi made loveto her, and she was mad about him and so, presently, it happens thathe must marry her, for it would be terrible to have disgrace uponthe wife's family. Besides the first wife had no children. So hemarried her. But _she_ had no children. It was all one fairy story. "Fritzi laughed under her breath in great enjoyment. "So Hamdi wascheated and he has been a devil to her. The first little wife diesand he shut the second up here, teasing her sometimes, sometimesmaking love when he is dull, but forcing her to his will for fear hewill divorce her. .. . How she must have hated you, when she had toplay that sister. Except that she was glad that _I_ was being putaside, " the dancer added with quick spite. "I think she would putpoison in my meat if she did not fear Hamdi so. .. . And always shehopes that he will come back to her. I have seen her waiting, nightafter night----"

And Arlee thought of the jewels and the silks . .. And the long, long, silent hours. .. . Slowly she put out her hand and snuffed outthe smoking wick, then raised her eyes to where the painted barsstretched black across the starry square of sky. "Won't _she_help?" she asked. 

"Not she! Hamdi would find her out. .. . Not through her can you getword to your friends. For you have friends here? And they will helpyou? And then you will help me?"

"Oh, yes, if I can get help, " promised Arlee. "But I am afraid myfriends have gone up the Nile--and there are just--just one or twoleft in Cairo that would help. And I must get word to them _atonce_. What is the best way? Couldn't I push a note through thewindows on the street? Someone might see that!"

"Yes, the doorkeeper. No, that is not safe. .. . If only that girlwere sure----"

"Mariayah?" cried Arlee. 

"No, the other--the little one with the wart over her eye. Have youseen her? Well, watch for her, then. She has an itching palm--shemay help. But only in little things, of course, for she is afraid. And I have no money left and she is afraid to take a jewel. "

"I have almost no money, " said Arlee blankly. "Only a letter ofcredit----"

"A letter of nothing here! But promise her your friends will givemuch. "

"Would she mail a letter?"

"Have you stamps? No? She is so ignorant that is an obstacle. Andthe post is distant and she dare not go far. But sometimes the bakersends a little boy, and if you had money to give she might get anote to him to carry--though, maybe, she burns the note and keepsthe money, " the Viennese ended pessimistically. 

"But I must get help _at once_, " Arlee iterated passionately. Before----"

"Before?" the other repeated curiously, "He makes love to you--h'm?"

"He--is beginning. "

"Only beginning?"

"Only--beginning. " Arlee felt the girl's strange, hard scrutinythrough the dark. Then she heard her draw a quick breath as if hereyes on Arlee's flower-like face had convinced her of somethingagainst all her sorry little reason. 

"Well, that is good then, " she said. "Try to keep him off. What doeshe promise you?"

"Promise me? He does not promise anything. "

"But he must say something--what is between you--what?" demanded theother impatiently. 

Briefly, her shamed cheeks grateful for the shadows, Arlee told ofthat walk in the garden, of the flowers and the letter, the sceneafter dinner. And the other girl's eyes grew wider and wider, andthen finally she burst into a smothered little laugh. 

"Oh, he is mad, that Hamdi!" she whispered. "He is a monster ofvanity--'conquest of the spirit'--h'm, I comprehend. That young manhas a pride beyond all sense. You dazzle him--he is in love againlike a boy. And he must dazzle you. His pride demands a victory notof force alone. .. . Some men are like that. .. . Well, that is yourchance!"

"My chance?"

"Play with his vanity--fight his force with that!" said this strangeinitiator into terrible secrets. "He will believe anything of hisfascinations--I know him. And if he is so mad for you that he daresall this trouble to have you here, then he is so mad that you canfool him and make him hold back in hopes to gain more from you. Makehim think you are coming, as he wishes, heart and body, but stillyou would wait a little. So you gain time. .. . Oh, you must becareful! If he loses hope, if you anger him, why the game is over. But if you are careful you can gain a few days----"

"A few days, " said Arlee in a tense little voice. 

"Well, that is something--since you hate him so!"

"Yes, that is something. " Arlee drew a shivering breath, her headdrooping, her lashes on her cheeks. Then suddenly, amazingly, herchin came pluckily up, her soft lips set with desperate decision, her eyes turned on her counselor a look of flashing spirit. She waslike some young wild thing at bay, harried, defiant, tenselydefensive. Something of the pathos of her innocent presence there, in that evil palace, utterly alone, hopelessly defiant, penetratedfor an instant the callous acceptances of the little dancer and hereyes softened with facile sympathy, but the impression dulled, andshe only nodded her head encouragingly. 

"Good! That is the way! Women can always act!" she murmured, slipping off the divan and drawing her fluttering robes about her. "But it is very late and I must go--it is not safe to stay so. "

"Where is your room? Could I get to you?"

"No--for you cannot open that panel on the inside--unless you cansteal the key from him as I could not! My room--for this present, little one, " and her eyes laughed suddenly in challenge, "is up onthe top--a little old room all alone. My doors are locked, but thereis a panel in my room, too, a panel at the top of tiny stairs, andthe lock on that panel is so old and rusty that a knife make itopen. So I pushed it open and came down the tiny stairs that end outthere in the passage way, and I opened your panel. Now I must stealback, but I shall come again, and we must plan. "

"But where does this secret passage go?" Arlee had followed over thebed, and held aside the heavy draperies while the little Baroff waspushing the panel softly and carefully open. Eagerly Arlee peeredout into the darkness beyond. "Where does it go?" she repeated. 

"It runs above the hall of banquets and into the _selamlik_, "whispered the Viennese. "It opens into Hamdi's rooms, he says, and Iknow that a servant sleeps always at his door and another is at thefoot of the stairs. So it would be madness to try that way. "

But Arlee stared thoughtfully into the secret place. "I am glad Iknow, " she said. 

"Well, good-by, little one. " The Viennese was standing outside now, softly closing the door. For a moment her face remained in theopening. "You will not tell Hamdi that I came--no?" she demandedsharply, and then on Arlee's quick reassurance she nodded, whisperedgood-by again, and drew back her little face. 

The wall rolled into place and a gentle click told of the caughtlock. The curtains fell back over the wall. And Arlee was lefthuddling there alone, feeling that it had all been a dream, but forthe heavy scent that lingered in the air and the wild fear beatingin her heart. 

CHAPTER IX

A DESPERATE GAME

Very slowly the black night grayed down into a wan, spectralmorning, and slowly the gray morning paled into a dimmother-of-pearl dawn. And then suddenly the mother-of-pearlinessbrightened into a shimmering opal, and the ray of pale gold lightslanted through the barred window and the bright face of new daypeeped over the sill, staring out of countenance the lurking shadowsof the night. 

And then Arlee's eyes closed, and the heart which had been beatinglike a frightened rabbit's at every sound and shadow steadied into arhythm as regular as a clock. She slept like a tired baby; while thelight grew brighter and higher, and reached in over the shiningdressing table, over the white piano, to rest upon the obliviousface upon the couch and to play with the bright, tangled hair. 

The first knocking upon the door did not disturb that sleep, and itwas a long time before the knock was again sounded. Then Arlee heardand sprang to her feet in a lightning rush of consciousness. It wasMariayah again, and the water jars which already looked familiar toher, and after the water jars appeared more roses and with the rosesa letter. 

Those roses came, the letter explained, to droop their heads beforeher loveliness, which put theirs to shame. They would greet her ashumbler sisters greet a fairer. For they were roses of a day, butshe was the Rose of Life. The capitals were Kerissen's own. And thenabruptly the letter demanded:

 Did I frighten you last night? Is it so strange to you that you have magic to make a man forget all the barriers of your convention? Do you not know you have an enchantment which distills in the blood and changes it to wine? You are the Rose of Life, the Rose of Desire, and no man can look upon you without longing. But you must not be angry at me for that, for I am your slave, and would strew roses always to soften the world for your little feet. .. . Fortune has made you my guest. Will you not smile upon me while Fortune smiles? Luncheon will be in the garden, for it is cool and fresh today. 

The mask was slipping. Only a flimsy veil of sentiment now over hisrash will. Only a light pretense of her freedom, of his courtesy. Hewas beginning to declare himself. .. . 

But she must not let him suspect that she knew. She must _not_. 

Her spirit responded fiercely to this tense demand upon it. Thedread, the panic of the night was gone. The fear that had shaken herwas beaten down like a cowardly dog. Excitement burned in her blood. Everything depended upon her coolness and her wit, upon a look, perhaps, the turn of a phrase, the droop of an eye, and she waspassionately resolved that neither coolness nor wit should fail her, nor words nor looks nor eyes betray the heart of her. She would playher rôle with every breath she drew. 

 * * * * *

She crossed the room at the luncheon summons in the nervous tensityof mood that an actress might go to play a part in which her careerwould live or die. Every half hour with Kerissen was now a duel, every minute was a stroke to be parried, and she flung herself intothat duel with the desperate exhilaration of such daring. Her handswere icy, and her cheeks were flaming with the excitement whichconsumed her, but she revealed no other trace of it, and shewondered to herself at the inscrutable fairness of the face which, looked back at her from the glass. 

None of the record of those frightened, sleepless hours was writtenthere, none of her furious pride, her fixed intensity. Only the softshadows under the blue eyes gave her face a look of added delicacyfor all the unnatural flare of brilliant color, and a faintwistfulness in those eyes seemed to overlay the smiles shepracticed, like a cloud shadow on a brook. And never, never, in allher glad, care-free days, had she been as distractingly pretty asshe was that moment. With an angry little pang she recognized it, pinning on the lace hat with its enchanting rose, and thendesperately she resolved to employ it and added two of Kerissen'spink roses to the costume. 

She thought the scene was very like a stage, when she came outthrough the narrow door which the old woman unlocked from a key shecarried on a girdle, and slowly descended the stone steps. Beneaththe wide-spreading lebbek a low table was laid for luncheon with twowicker chairs beside it. The green of the fresh turf was as vivid asstage grass; the lilies loomed unreally large and white; thepoinsettias flaunted like red paper flowers behind the vivid picturethat the Captain made in a dazzling buff and green uniform pickedout with gold. His bow was theatric, so was the deep look ofexaggerated admiration he bent upon her--it was strange to rememberthat her danger was not theatric also. But that was deadly real, andreal, too, was the sudden surge of color into the young man's sallowface. 

"You are kind to my roses--if not to me, " he said quickly, and heldout his hand for the brief little clasp she accorded. 

"Your roses are dumb and have said nothing to make me cross, " shelaughed lightly, and looked swiftly about her. "How lovely this is, "she ran on, "and how charming to feel a breeze. That room is ratherwarm and close. .. . Is you sister still too ill to come?"

And scarcely waiting for the assent which he began to frame with hissearching eyes upon her, she added, "I am afraid I made her angrylast night by intruding upon her. But I heard her voice and ran backto her room to ask after her. She wouldn't let me stay at all. "

It was droll how natural her voice sounded, she thought. His eyesheld their fixed scrutiny in an instant, then dropped carelesslyaway, as he drew forward the wicker chairs. "She is a _nerveuse_, you understand, " he said with an air of indolent resignation, "andone can do nothing for that sort of thing. A crisis comes--one mustwait for it to pass. .. . She regrets that condition. .. . And shewished me to present her regrets to you, " he added suavely, "forthat reception of you last night. She was ill and did not expectyou--and she did not wish you to see her in that condition. "

"I should not have gone, " acknowledged Arlee, "but, as I said, Iheard voices from the ante-room and thought I would like to seeher. .. . That pretty little maid she gave me does not speak anyEnglish, so I cannot send any messages. "

"But you can write them. "

"My French spelling is worse than my pronunciation!" She laughedamusedly. "I wish you would find me an interpreter to put my politeremarks into polite sounding phrases. I know I put things like aFirst Reader!"

He smiled. "You do not put them like a First Reader to me. _We_ donot need an interpreter. .. . Unless I need one to speak to you?"

"Oh, no, your English is wonderful!" She waited an instant, thentook a breathless plunge. "Have you any more news for me?" shedemanded, forcing the note of expectancy. It would be suspicious, indeed, if she did not ask that. But what if he had decided to throwthe pretense aside----

"Not one word of news more, " he said slowly. 

She felt him watching her as she looked down on her plate. Thepretty little girl was passing a platter of pigeon: Arlee did notspeak until she had helped herself, then she said in a voice touchedfaintly with chagrin, "Well, the English are not very gallant towardladies in misfortune, are they? I feel furiously snubbed. .. . Ofcourse Mrs. Eversham never was much of a writer, but they might sendover my letters from the hotel. The last mail ought to have broughta lot from that big brother of mine. "

"Ah, yes, that big, grown-up, married brother who is so satisfiedwith all you do!"

She felt she had been unfortunate in her rash confidences. 

"He won't be so pleased when he learns how I wasted a perfectly goodNile ticket, " she remarked. "And Big Brother is rather fierce whenhe isn't pleased. "

His eyes smiled, as if he understood and despised her suggestion. "Cairo and your America are not so near, " he observed negligently, "that an incident here is a matter of immediate knowledge there. "

She felt the danger of seeming to threaten him. "Oh, I'd 'fess up, "she said lightly, playing with her food. "There--shoo--go away!" shecried suddenly, with a militant gesture about her plate. "That's onething I hate about Egypt--the flies!"

"I hope that is the only thing you hate, " said the young manblandly. 

"Isn't that enough? There are so many of them!"

He laughed with real amusement at her petulance. "Is there nettingenough in your room?" he inquired. "Would you like more for yourbed?"

"Oh, no, I'm all right, thank you. The flies are chiefly bothersomeat meals. This is certainly their paradise. "

"But is there anything you would like--to make you happy here? Iwill get it for you. Would you not like some books, some music, somenew clothes----"

"I don't wonder you ask! But really this white gown will last alittle longer--Cairo is so clean. No, thank you, there is nothing Ineed bother you about--Oh, yes, there really is one book that Iwould like--a Turkish or an Arabic dictionary. I have always meantto learn a little of the language and this would seem theopportunity. "

In the pause in which he appeared to be consuming pigeon she couldfeel him weighing her request, foreseeing its results. 

"I shall be most happy to teach you, " was what he said, but she knewshe would never have that dictionary. And so one plan of the morningwent flying to the winds. But she snatched at the next opening shesaw and plunged into interested questions about the Turkishlanguage, asking the words for such things as seemed spontaneouslyto occur to her--wall, palace, table--numbers--days of theweek--repeating the pronunciation with the earnestness of a diligentyoung pupil, until she felt that her memory had all it could hold. And distrust, always ready now like a prompter in the box, suggestedmost upsettingly that perhaps he was not giving the right words. Sheresolved to experiment upon Mariayah. 

He reverted, with increasing emphasis, upon his desire to make herhappy in the palace, to surround her with whatever she desired, andswiftly she availed herself of this second opening. 

"Yes, indeed, there is something that would make me happier, if youdon't mind, please, " she added with a droll assumption of meekness. "You don't know how horrid it is for me to be caged in one room andnot be out of doors, and I would love to come down into the gardenwhen I want to. Won't you give me a key to that door? That is, if itis always locked. "

"Generally it is not, " he said readily, "but now with the soldiersabout it is safer. You see, the soldiers can approach the gardenthrough the open banquet hall"--and he nodded to the colonnadebehind them--"and though it is forbidden, one cannot foretell theirobedience. "

To one who knew those soldiers were chimerical acquiescence wasmaddening. 

"But, dear me, can't you have some one in the banquet hall to shoothe soldiers away?" Arlee argued persuasively. "Since the rest ofthe household has the court, it seems awfully selfish not to let theladies have the garden for their airing. "

"It may be managed, " he assented. "It has always been done, for thegarden is for the ladies. Whenever you wish to be in the garden youhave but to send word, and the household will remain in the court, as is, indeed, the custom. "

"It would not be so terrible, you know, if a gardener or adonkey-boy did see my face!" laughed Arlee. "Plenty of them have hadthat pleasure before this. "

She saw that the young man's face changed. Every clear-cut line ofit was sharp with repugnance. "You need not remind me of that, " hesaid with muffled fierceness, staring down at his plate. 

"The danger line!" she thought while shaking her head at him, withthe tense semblance of an amused little smile. .. . "You aren't theleast bit English, " she rebuked, "and I thought you were. "

"Not in that. .. . And some day England will see her folly. "

"America is seeing her folly now, " thought Arlee with secretbitterness. But when she raised her eyes they were gentlycontemplative. She spoke musingly. 

"In things like that you aren't at all what I thought youwere--about our social customs, I mean. Yet fundamentally, I thinkyou are. "

"That I am what?"

"What I thought you were. "

He waited, palpably waited, but Arlee continued to peel a tangerinewith absorption, and the question had to come from him. He put itwith an air of indolent amusement, yet she felt the intent interestin leash. 

"And what did you think I was like, _chère petite mademoiselle_?"

"Very handsome for one thing, Monsieur! You see, I owe you acompliment for calling me such a pretty name as this!" With amischievous smile she touched the roses nodding in her girdle. "Andvery autocratic for another, with a very bad temper. If you can'tget your way you would be shockingly disagreeable!"

"But I always get my way, " he assured her lazily, his teeth showingunder his small, black mustache. 

"I believe you do!" Ingenuous admiration, simple and sustained, wasin the look she gave him. Her hands were not half so icy now, norher nerves so tense. She felt strangely surer of herself; the actualpresence of the danger calmed her. She must make good with this, shethought simply, in strenuous American. 

"And yet, " she went on thoughtfully, the pretty picture offascinated absorption in this most feminine topic--the dissection ofa young man--"yet, you are chivalrous. And I think that is thequality we American girls admire most of all. "

"The quality--of indulgence?" he questioned, with a half-railingair. 

"The quality--of gentleness. "

"But is there not another quality which you American girls wouldadmire more than that gentleness--if you ever had the chance in yourlives to see it? The quality of dominance? The courage of the manwho dares what he desires, and who takes what he wills? Is notthat----"

"Ah, yes, we love strong men, " Arlee flung into the speech that wasbearing him on like a tide, "but we don't think them strong unlessthey are strong enough to fight themselves. They may take what theywill--but they mustn't crush it. .. . There is a gentleness in greatstrength--I can't explain what I mean----"

"Ah, I see, I see. " He smiled subtly. "I am not to crush you, littleRose of Desire, " he said softly. 

She met the sly significance of his gaze with a look of frank, unfaltering candor. "Of course not, " she said stoutly. "Whenyou--you make me afraid of you, you make me like you less. You seemless like the friend I knew on the boat. "

"Ah, that boat!. .. You were my friend, then!" he added suddenly, with a note of question sounding through the affirmation, and sheanswered quickly, looking away with an air of petulant reproach. "Why, you know I was, Captain Kerissen. And here in Cairo----"

"Yes, here in Cairo, " he interrupted triumphantly, "in the face ofthose eyes and tongues--I saw that red-headed dog of an Englishmanlooking his anger at you! But you smiled on me before themall--those fools, those tyrannic fools----"

"But you mustn't abuse my other friends! They were only--stupid!"

"Stupid as their blood brother, the ox!. .. But they are not in thepicture now--those other friends!" Disagreeably he laughed. "And youdo not grieve for them--no? The world has not touched you? There isno one out there, "--he made a gesture over the guarding walls--"noone who holds a fragment of your thought, of your heart in hishands?"

She looked at him as if puzzled, then burst into a bubbling laugh. "Why, of course not! I've just had a nice time with people. Therehas never been a bit of sentiment about it!"

"Not on your side, " he said meaningly, and because this was hittingthe truth smartly on the head she looked past him in some confusion. 

"Oh--boys!" she said with a deprecating little laugh. "I've neverlistened to them. "

He leaned back in his chair, feeling for his cigarette case, andthe contentment of his look deepened. "You have been a child, asleepto life, " he murmured complacently. "I told you you were aprincess--let us say a sleeping princess waiting for the prince, like that old fairy tale of the English. " He was looking at hiscigarette as he tapped it on the arm of his chair, and slowly strucka light, then, after the first breath, "But do you not hear hisfootsteps in your sleep?" he added, and gave her a glance from thecorner of his eyes. 

She looked up and then down; she stared out into the sun-floodedgarden and laughed softly. "Even princesses dream, " she demurelyacknowledged, and thought the line and her fleet, meaning glancewent very well with this mad opera-bouffe which fate was forcing herto play. 

Kerissen seemed to think that went very well, too, for his flashingteeth acknowledged his pleasure in her aptness; then his smile fadedand she felt him studying her over his cigarette, studying heraverted gaze, the bright color in her cheeks, the curves of herlips, and he was puzzled and perturbed by the sweet, baffling beautyof her. A wild elation began to swell his heart. His eyes glowed, his blood burned with the triumph, not so much of his daring captureof her, but of the flattering tribute that her pretty ways werepaying toward his personality alone. Wary as he was, cynical ofsubterfuge, he did not penetrate her guard. His monstrous vanitywhispered eager flattery in his ears. 

And still he continued to stare at her, finding her unbelievablylovely. "My grandfather would call you an _houri_ from paradise, "he told her, the warmth of admiration deepening in his eyes. 

"And your grandfather's grandson knows that I am only an _houri_from America!. .. But that _is_ paradise for _houris_!"

"And not for men, no!. .. Sometimes I have wished that those Englishwould restore in me that young belief in the heaven of the Prophet, "he continued, smiling, "and now that wish is granted. It is here, that paradise, " and his smile, flashing about the lonely garden, came to dwell again upon the girl before him. 

She laughed. "But does one _houri_ make a paradise?" she bantered, while the beating, hurrying heart of her went faster and faster tillshe thought his ears would hear it. "We have a proverb--one swallowdoes not make a summer. "

"_Cela dépend_--that depends upon the _houri_. .. . When _you_ arethat one it is paradise indeed. " He leaned toward her, speakingsoftly, but with a voice that thrilled more and more in its owneloquence. 

She was the Rose of Desire, he reminded her, and beside her allother flowers drooped in envy. She was as lovely as young Dawn tothe eyes of men. She was the ravishing embodiment of gaiety andyouth and delight. He quoted from the poets, not from his ownOriental poets, but snatches from Campion and Wilde, vowing that

 "There was a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies grow, "

and adding, with points of fire dancing in his heavy lidded eyes, "Her neck is like white melilote, Flushing for pleasure of the sun, "

and went on to add praise to praise and extravagance toextravagance, till a sudden little imp of mirth caught Arlee by thethroat, hysterically choking her. "I shall never like praise orpoetry or--or men again, " she thought, struggling between wildlaughter and hot disgust, while aloud she mocked, "Ah, you know toomuch poetry, Captain Kerissen! I do not recognize myself at all! Youare laughing at me!"

"Laughing at you?. .. I am worshipping you, " he said tensely, hiseyes on hers, and the fierce words shattered her light defenses toconfusion. 

Silence gripped her. She tried to meet his look and smile in mockreproof, but her eyes fled away affrighted, so full of desperate, passionate things was the dark gaze they touched. She gripped hercold little hands in her lap and looked out beyond the lebbek'sshade into the vivid garden. The hot sunshine lay orange on thewhite-sanded paths; the shadows were purple and indigo. A littlelizard had come out from a crack in a stone and was sunning himself, while one bright eye upon them, fixed, motionless, irridescent, warned him of their least stir. She envied him the safety of hiscrack. .. . She herself must meet this crisis--must turn this tide. .. . 

"It is--so soon, " she faltered. 

"Soon?" He had risen and was standing over her. "Soon? I was withyou on the boat--I walked by your side--I danced with you and heldyou against my heart. And here in Cairo I walked and talked withyou. .. . And now for three days you have been under my roof, eatingat the table with me, alone within these walls, and you call itsoon! Truly, you are beyond belief! _Soon!_"

"But soon--for _me_!" she interrupted swiftly, and sprang to herfeet to face him with eyes and lips that smiled without a trace offear. Only her cheeks were no longer crimson but white as chalk. "Too soon--for me to be sure--how _I_ feel! I hadn't realized--Ihadn't known--Oh, you mustn't hurry me! You mustn't hurry me!" Shebroke off in a confusion he might well misconstrue, and movednervously away, her back to him. 

He stood staring after her, a man not in two minds but in three andfour. Her broken words--her smiles--her emotion--these might wellarouse the most flattering surmise, and his vanity and his curiositywere stirred to swift delight. He broke into a storm of words, ofprotestations, of eager persuasion and honied flattery, drawingnearer and nearer to her, while she slipped continually away fromhim. 

"You mustn't hurry me, " she echoed defensively. "I am not likeyou--you Southerners. I----"

"You are asleep--I have told you that you are that sleepingprincess, " he broke in, and following after as she turned away fromhim, he put a quick arm about her, and bending over her, tried toturn her about toward him. "Do you know how that little sleepingprincess was awakened by her prince?" he murmured fatuously, bending closer. 

The hat saved her, that coquettish little hat with its jealouslyguarding brim which bent obstinately lower and lower between them. And in the instant of his indecision, while he waited for thesurrender his vanity expected before exerting the force that wouldconquer brutally, she broke unexpectedly from his clasp and darted afew steps away from him, whirling about to face him with her headflung back, her eyes on fire, her lips parted in a breathlessexcitement. 

"Captain Kerissen, " she cried, and there was a ring of gaiety in hervoice, "do I understand that you are proposing to me?"

Very formally he bowed, a bow that hid the astonishment and thecynical humor which zigzagged across his handsome face. "I am doingmyself that honor, " he most suavely returned, and eyed her with anastonished curiosity that checked his passion. 

"Really?. .. So soon?" she cried very childishly, and again he bowed. But this time she caught his smile. 

"Really so soon, little Arlee. "

To his amazement she burst into prankish laughter. 

"Oh, you _are_ romantic!" she gave back. "And if I can believe youtruly in earnest--last night I was furious at you, " she went onrapidly, interrupting the speech forming on his lips, "for I thoughtyou a dreadful flirt, just taking advantage of my being here, andyet--and yet you _didn't_ seem that kind. You seemed a _gentleman_!And now if you really mean--all you are saying--but you can't, youcan't! I know your words are running ahead of you!"

"My words--let my heart speak--I----"

"But I don't know whether I ought to listen or not!" she burst out, and with great naïveté, "I'm afraid it would be very silly to letmyself care for you. "

"Silly? An adorable silliness! Could you not be happy with me herein this palace? You would be a princess, indeed, a queen of myheart. I would put every luxury at your command. " In mingledeagerness and wariness he watched her, incredulous of her assentingmood, but with a hope that lured him on to believe. And in his eyes, dubious, desirous, calculating, watchful, she read the fluctuationsof his thought. If afterwards there should happen to be any troubleabout this affair, how wonderfully it would smooth things to havethe girl infatuated with him, to show that she had been a party tothe intrigue! And how spicily it sweetened the taste of success tohis lips!

He had caught her two hands in his, and clasping them tightly hebent forward, trying to scan the changes in her hesitating look, while his words poured forth in a stream of praise and promise. Shewould live like a little princess. His love and his wealth were ather feet. Other women were eager for him, but he was hers alone. Shewould adore Egypt, the Egypt that he would reveal to her, and whenshe wearied they would go to the Continent and live always as shedesired. Only she must be kind to him, be kind and sweet and lifther eyes and tell him that she would make him happy. She must notkeep him waiting. He was not a man with whom one amused oneself. 

"And I am not a girl whom one commands!" she gave back with a flashof spirit and a childish toss of her head. "I like you, Monsieur, atleast I did like you before you hurt my fingers so horribly"--thetight grasp on her hands relaxed and she drew them swiftly away, rubbing them in mock ruefulness--"and I could like you better andbetter--perhaps"--her blue eyes flashed a look into his--"if youwere _very_ nice and polite and give me time to catch my breath! Youare such a _hurrying_ sort of person!" Her whimsical little smileenchanted him, even while he chafed at such delay. 

"I am mad about you, " he said in a low tone. 

"And only me?" she laughed, her dimples showing. 

So, teasing and luring, she held him off, and her heart beatexultantly as she saw that she had given him the thought of marriagefor that of conquest, the dream of a perfect idyll for that of anenforced submission. .. . It was a desperate play, but she played itvaliantly, and her fearfulness and the spell of her beauty sweetenedthe rôle of beseeching suitor for him, and gave a glamour to thispretty garden dalliance. .. . The memory of time came to him at lastwith a start, and frowningly he stared at the watch he drew out toconsult. 

"I must hurry away--to another part of the palace, " he amendedswiftly, "where I have an engagement. .. . I shall not be at libertytill to-night--rather late. I will send word to you, then----"

She shook her head at him. "To-morrow, " she substituted gaily. "Letus have luncheon to-morrow under the trees again like this. 

"To-morrow is too far away----"

"No, it is just right for me. And if you really want to pleaseme----"

"But does it please you to make me miserable----?"

"You can't be very miserable when you have a luncheon engagement, "she insisted. "_I'm_ not!"

He shrugged. "Till luncheon then--unless I should be back earlierthan I think. " He gave her a quick look, but her face did not betrayawareness of the slip. 

"Oh, of course, if you are at liberty sooner--And while you are busywon't you manage things so I can stay out here awhile? I shall lovethis garden, I know, when I am better friends with it, " and after animperceptible pause he promised to send a maid back to keep watchover her, and with a lingering pressure of hands and a look thatplainly said he was but briefly denying himself a more ardentfarewell, he hurried away through the banquet hall into the court. 

She dared not run after to spy upon his departure. She could onlywait, hoping in every throbbing nerve that the maid would prove tobe the little one with the wart over her eye. And as she hoped shefeared, lest all her frail barrier of cards should be swept away bya single breath. 

If he should learn that the little dancer had visited her! If heshould discover that she was playing a game with him!

CHAPTER X

A MAID AND A MESSAGE

The March hare would have been a feeble comparison for Billy Hill'smadness if Robert Falconer could have seen him that Saturdaymorning, that same Saturday on which Arlee was essaying her daringrôle, for Billy Hill was sitting in the sun upon a camp stool, awhite helmet upon his head, an easel before him, and upon the easela square of blank canvas, and in Billy's left hand was a box of oilsand in his right a brush. And the camp stool upon which Billy wasstationed was planted directly before the small, high-arched door ofthe Kerissen palace and in plain view of the larger door a few feetto the right. 

It had all followed upon acquaintance with the one-eyed man. 

Taciturn in the beginning and suspicious of Billy's questionings, that dark-skinned individual had at first betrayed abyssmalignorance of all save the virtues of stuffed crocodiles, butconvinced at last that this was no trap, but a genuine situationfrom which he could profit, his greed overcame his native caution, and through the aid of his jerky English and Billy's jagged Arabica certain measure of confidence was exchanged. 

The one-eyed man then recollected that he had noticed a Turkishofficer and an American girl returning together to the hotel uponthat Wednesday afternoon. He had stared, because truly it wasamazing, even for American madness--and also the young girl wasbeautiful. "A wild gazelle, " was his word for her. The man wasCaptain Kerissen. He was known to all the city--well known, hewas--in a certain way. It was not a good way for the ladies. Yes, hehad a motor car--a grand, gray car. (Billy remembered that the fatallimousine had been gray. ) It was well known that he had bought itfor a foreign woman whom he had brought from over-seas and installedin the palace of his fathers. Yes, he knew well where that palacewas. His brother's wife's uncle was a eunuch there, but he was ahard man who held his own counsel and that of his master. 

Could a girl be shut up in that palace and the world be no wiser?The one-eyed man stared scathingly at such ignorance. Why not? Theunderworld might know, but native gossip never reached white ears. 

What was the best way of finding out, then? The one-eyed man had nohesitation about his answer. 

A native must use his eyes and ears for the American. Through hissubtle skill and the American's money the discovery could be made. The women servants would talk. 

That was the way, Billy agreed, and quoted to the Arab his ownproverb, "A saint will weary of well-doing and a braggart of hisboasts, but a woman's tongue will never stop of itself, " and theone-eyed man had nodded, with an air of resigned understanding, andquoted in answer, "There is nothing so great and nothing so small, nothing so precious and nothing so foul, but that a woman will puther tongue to it, " and an understanding appeared to have beenreached. 

The one-eyed man was to loiter about the palace, calling upon thebrother's wife's uncle if possible, and discover all that he couldwithout arousing suspicion. And Billy determined to do a littleloitering himself and quicken the one-eyed man's investigations andkeep watch of Kerissen's comings and goings, and a donkey boy washired by the one-eyed man to follow the Captain when he appeared inthe street and report the places to which he went. 

It was all very ridiculous, of course, Billy cheerfully agreed withhimself, but by proving its own folly it would serve to allay thatextraordinarily nagging uneasiness of his. If he could just be_sure_ that little Miss Beecher wasn't tucked out of sight somewherein the power of that barbaric scamp with his Continental veneer!

Meanwhile the Oriental methods to be employed in the finding outappealed to the young American's humor and his rash love ofadventure. He was grinning as he sat there on that stool and staredat the blank canvas before him. He had felt the rôle of artist wouldbe an excellent screen for his loitering, but he had done nopainting for a little matter of twenty years, not since he was atiny lad, flat upon his stomach in his home library, industriouslytinting the robes and beards of Bible characters and the backgroundsof the Holy Land--this work of art being one of the few permitteddiversions of the family Sabbath. Now he reflected that the scenesfor his brush were decidedly similar. 

With humorous interest he fell to work, scaling off the palace onhis left, blocking off the cemetery ahead, and trying to draw a palmwithout emphasizing the thought of a feather duster. His engineeringtraining made him critical of his lines and outlines, but when itcame to the introduction of color he had the sensation of ashipwrecked mariner afloat upon uncharted seas. 

The color that his eyes perceived was not the color which hisstubborn memory persisted in reminding him was the actual hue of theevents, and the color that he produced upon canvas was no kin to anyof them. But it sufficed for an excuse, and he worked away, whistling cheerily, warily observant of the dark and silent façadeof the old palace and alertly interested in the little groups hisoccupation transiently attracted. But these little groups were allof passers-by, shawl-venders, package-deliverers, beggars, veileddesert women with children astride their shoulders, and the livehens they were selling beneath their mantles, and these groupsdissolved and drew away from him without his being able to attractany observation from the palace. 

But at least, he thought doggedly, any girl behind those latticedwindows up there could see him in the street, and if Arlee werethere she would understand his presence and plan to get word downto him. But he began to feel extraordinarily foolish. 

At length his patience was rewarded. The small door opened and thestalwart doorkeeper, in blue robes and yellow English shoes, marchedpompously out to him and ordered him to be off. 

Haughtily Billy responded that this was permitted, and displayed aself-prepared document, gorgeous with red seals, which made the manscowl, mutter, and shake his head and retire surlily to his door, and finding a black-veiled girl peering out of it at Billy, hethrust her violently within. But Billy had caught her eyes and triedto look all the significance into them of which he was capable. 

Nothing, however, appeared to develop. The door remained closed, save for brief admissions of bread and market stuff from little boyson donkey-back or on a bicycle, all of whom were led willingly intoconservation, but none of whom had been into the palace, and thoughBilly pressed as close to the door as possible when the boysknocked, he was only rewarded with a glimpse of the tiled vestibuleand inner court. 

To the irate doorkeeper he protested that he was yearning to paint apalace court, but though he held up gold pieces, the man ordered himaway in fury and spoke menacingly of a stick for such fellows. 

Now, however cool and fresh it was in the garden that Saturday, itwas distinctly hot in the dusty street, and by noon, as Billy sat inthe shade beside the palace door, eating the lunch he had broughtand drinking out of a thermos bottle, he reflected that for a man tocook himself upon a camp stool, feigning to paint and observing anuneventful door, was the height of Matteawan. He despisedhimself--but he returned to the camp stool. 

Nothing continued to happen. 

Travelers were few. Occasionally a carriage passed; once a couple ofyoung Englishmen on polo ponies galloped by; once a poor native camedown the road, moving his harem--a donkey-cart load of blackshrouded women, with three half-naked children bouncing on a longtailboard. 

Several groups of veiled women on foot proceeded to the cemetery andback again. 

The one-eyed man sauntered by in vain. 

In the heat of the afternoon the wide door suddenly opened andCaptain Kerissen himself appeared on his black horse. He spurred offat a gallop, intending apparently to ride down the artist on theway, but changed his mind at the last and dashed past, showering himwith dust from his horse's hoofs. The little donkey-boy, lollingdown the road, started to follow him, crying out for alms in thename of Allah. 

Billy stared up at the windows. Not a handkerchief there, not asignal, not a note flung into the street! In great derision hesquirted half a tube of cerulean blue upon his canvas. 

This, he reflected, was zero in detective work. It was also minus inadventure. 

But one never knows when events are upon the wing. Almostimmediately there came into the flatness of his bored existence avictoria containing those two English ladies he had met--in theunconventional way which characterized his meetings with ladies inCairo--two days before. 

The recognition was mutual. The curiosity appeared upon their side. To his horror he saw that they had stopped their carriage and weredescending. 

"How interesting!" said Miss Falconer, with more cordiality than shehad shown on the previous occasion. "How very interesting! So youare an artist--I do a little sketching myself, you know. "

"You do happen in the most unexpected places, " smiled Lady Claire. 

The English girl looked very cool and sweet and fresh to the heatedpainter. His impression of her as a nice girl and a pretty girl wasspeedily reinforced, and he remembered that dark-haired girls withgray-blue eyes under dusky lashes had been his favorite type not solong ago . .. Before he had seen Arlee's fairy gold. 

"We've just been driving through the old cemetery--such interestingtombs, " said the elder lady, and Lady Claire added, "I should thinkyou could get better views there than here. "

By this time they had reached the easel and stood back of it inobservation. 

Blue, intensely blue, and thickly blue was the sky that Billy hadlavished. Green and rigid were the palms. Purple was the palace. Very black lay the shadows like planks across the orange road. 

Miss Falconer looked as if she doubted her own eyes. Hurriedly sheunfolded her lorgnette. 

"It--it's just blocked in, " said Billy, speaking with a peculiardiffidence. 

"Quite so--quite so, " murmured the lady, bending closer, as iffascinated. 

Lady Claire said nothing. Stealing a look at her, Billy saw that shewas looking it instead. 

Miss Falconer tried another angle. The sight of that lorgnette had astiffening effect upon Billy B. Hill. 

"You get it?" he said pleasantly. "You get the--ah--symphonic chordI'm striking?"

"Chord?" said Miss Falconer. "Striking, " she murmured in a peculiarvoice. 

"It's all in thirds, you see, " he continued. 

"Thirds!" came the echo. 

"Perhaps you're of the old school?" he observed. 

"Really--I must be!" agreed the lady. 

"Ah!" said Billy softly, commiseratingly. He cocked his head at anangle opposite from the slant of the lorgnette and stared his ownamazing canvas out of countenance. 

"Then, of course, " he said, "this hardly conveys----"

"What are you?" she demanded. "Is this a--a school?"

"I?" He seemed surprised that there could be any doubt about it. "Iam a Post-Cubist. "

Miss Falconer turned the lorgnette upon him. "Oh, really, " she saidvaguely. "I fancy I've heard something of that--you're quite new andradical, aren't you?"

"Oh, we're old, " he said gently, "very, very old. We have returnedto Nature--but not the nature of mere academicians. We paint, notthe world of the camera, but the world of the brain. We paint, notthe thing you think you see, but the way you think you see it--itsvibrations of your inner mentality. To paint the apple ripening onthe bough one should reproduce the gentle swelling of the maturingfruit in your perception. .. . Now, you see, I am not trying toreproduce the precise carving of that door; I do not fix the wavingsof that palm. I give you the cerebellic----"

"Quite so, " said Miss Falconer, dropping her lorgnette and givingthe canvas the fixity of her unobstructed gaze. "It's mostinteresting, " she said, a little faintly. "Are there many of you?"

"I don't know, " said Billy. "We do not communicate with one another. That always influences, you know, and it is better to work outthought alone. "

"I should think it would be. " Something in her tone suggested thatthe inviolated solitude of the asylum suggested itself to her as afitting spot. "Well, we won't interrupt you any longer. You've beenmost interesting. .. . The sun is quite hot, isn't it?" and with onelong, lingering look at the picture, a look convinced against itswill, she went her way toward the victoria. 

But Lady Claire stood still. Billy had fairly forgotten all abouther, and now as he turned suddenly from the clowning with herchaperon, he found her gaze being transferred from his picture tohimself. It was a very steady gaze, calm-eyed and deliberate. 

"I'm afraid you're making game of us!" she said, in her musical, high-bred tones, her clear eyes disconcertingly upon him. "Aren'tyou?" she gently demanded. 

"That's not fair. " Billy was uncomfortable and looked away in haste. He felt a grin coming. 

Perhaps he was a shade too late, for Lady Claire laughed suddenlyand with a note of curious delight. 

"You're _too_ amusing!" she said. "What made you?. .. How did youthink of it all?. .. Are you just beginning?"

"Oh, I began twenty years ago, " he smiled back, "but I haven't doneanything in the meantime. "

Again she laughed with that ring of mischievous delight. "Howeveryou could think of it all! I shan't tell on you--but she'll _never_be done wondering. " She turned away, her pretty face still brightwith humor, and then she turned back hesitantly toward him. 

"It _is_ hot here in this sun, " she said. "It _can't_ be good foryou. Shall we drive you back?"

She had lovely eyes, dark, smoky-blue under black lashes, and whenthey held a gentle, half-shy, half-proud invitation, as they didthen, they were very unsettling eyes. .. . And it was hot on thatinfernal camp stool. And there was a crick in the back of his neckand his errand was glaringly a fool's errand. .. . 

He half rose, and as he did so the door in the palace opened a crackand a veiled face peered furtively out. Billy sat down again. 

"No, thank you, " he said, "I think I'd better do a little more ofthis. "

In such light ways is the gate of opportunity closed and opened. Everything that happened afterwards with such appallingstartlingness hung on that instant's decision. 

For the moment he felt himself a donkey as Lady Claire turnedquietly away and the victoria rattled off with brisk finality. Thenthe door opened again, and again the girl peered out, and furtively, stealthily slipped just outside. 

Billy caught up a pad and a pencil and called out a request tosketch her, holding up some silver. Instantly she assumed a fixedpose, with a nervous giggle behind her veil, and he came quicklynear her, pretending to be drawing. Her dark, curious eyes met hiswith questioning significance, and he threw all caution aside andplunged into his demands. 

Did she want to earn money, he said quickly, in the Arabic he hadbeen preparing for such an encounter, and on her eager assent, heasked if there was a foreign lady in the palace, an American. 

The flash of her eyes told him that he had struck the mark beforeher half-frightened words came. 

His heart quickened with excitement. He might have suspected thisthing--but he had not really believed it! He asked, stammering inhis haste, "Does she want to get away?"

Again that knowing nod and the quick assent. Then the girl burstinto low-toned speech, glancing back constantly through the door sheheld nearly shut behind her. Billy was forced to shake his head. Itwas one thing to have picked up a little casual Arabic, and another, and horribly different, thing to comprehend the rapid outpouringsbehind that muffling veil. 

Baffled, he went hurriedly on with his own questionings. Was thislady safe? Again the nod and murmur of assent. Did she want help?Vehement the confirmation. He repeated, with careful emphasis, "Iwill reward you well for your help, " and this time the directsimplicity of her reply was entirely intelligible:

"How much?"

"One pound. .. . Two, " he added, as she shook her head. 

"Four, " she demanded. 

It was maddening to haggle, but it would be worse to yield. 

"Two--and this, " said Billy, drawing out the gold and some silverwith it. 

She gave a frightened upward glance at the windows over them andstepped closer. "I take it, " she said. "Listen--" and that was allthat Billy could understand of the swift words she whispered to him. 

"Slower--slower, " he begged. "Once more--slower. "

She frowned, and then, very slowly and distinctly, she articulated, "_T'âla lil genaina . .. 'end eltura_. "

He wrote down what he thought it sounded like. "Go on. "

"_Allailade_, " she continued. 

"That's to-night, " he repeated. "What else?"

"_Assâa 'ashara_, " she added hurriedly, and then, intelligibleagain, "Now, quick, the money. "

"Hold on, hold on. " He was in despair. "Go over that again, please, "and hastily the girl whispered the words again and he wrote down hiscorrections. Then with a flourish he appeared to finish the sketchand held out the gold and silver to her, saying, "Thank you, "carelessly. 

Quick as a flash she seized the money, leaving a little crumpledball of white linen in his hand, and then, apparently by lightning, she secreted the gold, and with the silver shining in her dark palmshe came closer to him, urging him for another shilling, anothershilling for having a picture made. In an undertone she demanded, "Is it yes? Shall I say yes to the lady?"

"Yes, yes, yes, " said Billy, desperately, to whatever the unknownmessage might be. "Take a note to her for me?" he demanded, startingto scribble one, but she drew back with a quick negation, and as asound came from the palace she slipped back through the door and wasgone like a shadow when a blind is thrown open. 

Only the crumpled little ball of linen remained in Billy's hand. Hestraightened it out. It was a lady's handkerchief, a dainty thing, delicately scented. In the corners were marvels of sheer embroideryand among the leaves he found the initial he was seeking. It was theletter B. 

As he stared down on it, that tiny, telltale initial, his face wentwhite under its tan and his mouth compressed till all the humor andkindliness of it were lost in a line of stark grimness. And then heswung on his heel and packed up his painting kit in a fury of haste, and with one last, upturned look at those mocking windows, he wasoff down the road like a shot. 

There were just two things to do. The first was to discover themessage hidden in those unknown words. 

The second was to do exactly as that message bade. 

CHAPTER XI

OVER THE GARDEN WALL

Two oil lamps flared in the little coffee-house. In one circle ofyellow light two bearded Sheiks were playing dominoes withimperturbable gravity; the other lamp flickered over an empty tablebeneath which the thin, flea-bitten legs of a ragged urchin wereshowing in the oblivion of his tired sleep. In the shadow beyond sata young American with a keen, impatient face, and a one-eyed Arabshrouded in a huge burnous. 

"I make fine dragoman?" the Arab was saying proudly. "This is ver'old coffee-house. Many things happen here, ver' strange----"

"Yes, but I'm sick of the doggone place, " said Billy fiercely. "Ican't sit still and swallow coffee any longer. Can't we start now?"

"Too soon--too soon before the time. You say ten? Come, we go nextdoor. Nice place next door, perhaps--dancing, maybe. "

There was noise enough next door, certainly, to promise dancing. Thestrident notes of Oriental music came shrieking out the opendoorway, but as Billy stepped within and stared over the heads ofthe squatting throng, he saw no sinewy dancers, but only two tinygirls in bright colors huddled wearily against the wall. The musicwhich was absorbing every look came from the brazen throat of a hugeinstrument in the corner. 

"Lord--a phonograph!" thought the young man in disgust, resentingthis intrusion of the genius of his race into foreign fields. 

The squatting men, their dark lips parted in pleased smiles, weretoo intent upon the innovation to turn at his entrance, but thelittle girls caught sight of him and ran forward, beggingclamorously, their bracelets clanking on their outstretched arms. 

With a little silver he tried to soften the vigor of the one-eyedman's dismissal. "This cheap place--no good dancers any more, " theArab uttered in disgust. "New man here--no good. Maybe next doorbetter--eh?"

But next door was only a flight of steps and a lone little doll of asentinel, painted and hung like a bedizened idol. Only the dark eyesin the tinted sockets were alive, and these turned curiously afterthe strange young white man who had dropped a coin into heroutstretched hand and passed on so hurriedly. 

"I don't want any more of these joints, " Billy was saying vehementlyto his harassed guide. "It's dark as the Styx now--let's be on ourway. "

The street they were on was narrow enough for any antiquarian, butthe one into which the Arab guide now turned was so narrow that thejutting bays of the houses seemed pushing their faces impudentlyagainst their neighbors. A voice in one room could have been heardas clearly in the one over the way. It was a mean little street, squalid and poor and pitiful, but it maintained its strippeddignities of screened windows and isolation. It was better not towonder what nights were like in those women's rooms in summer heat. 

The lane-like path stopped at a rickety sort of wharf, and at theirapproach a black head bobbed quickly up from a waiting boat. It wasthe little boy who had shadowed the Captain that day--reporting hisarrival at the Khedivial palace--and he climbed out now and sat onthe wharf, watching curiously while Billy and his guide bestowedthemselves in the long canoe, and pushed silently away. 

It was an eerie backwater in which they were paddling, a sluggishstream which moved between dark houses. Sometimes it scraped againsttheir sides and lapped their balconies; sometimes it was held incheck by walls and narrow terraces. For Billy the water between thedark houses, the mirrored stars, the unexpected flare of some oillamp and its still reflection, the long windings and the stagnantsmells held their suggestions of Venice for his senses, and hethought the business he was going about was very similar to thebusiness which had brought so many of the gentry of Venice to suddenand undesired ends. 

The flies were horribly thick here. They settled upon the faces andarms of the paddlers, totally unapprehensive of rebuff. Billy'sflesh crawled. He finished the swarm with a ringing slap thatbrought a low caution from his guide. 

Now the canal was wider and shallower. The houses receded, and afield or so appeared, and frequent walls hedged the way. Thensuddenly the houses came down again to the water, and the ruins ofold mosques and palaces lined the banks for a time; to be replacedby walls again. The windings were interminable, and just when he wasthinking that his silent guide was as confused as he was, the manmade a sudden gesture to the right bank where a tiny strip of landshowed above the water clinging to a high brick wall, and withcareful, soundless strokes they brought the canoe up to that land. 

Billy looked at his watch. It was nearly ten. Hurriedly he climbedout, taking out the stout, notched pole and the knotted rope withthe iron hook at the end which he had prepared. The message whichhad been so unintelligible to him was very simple. "Escape by canalto-night--come to garden at ten, " had been the words, and Billy, onhearing the description of the canal from the one-eyed man, had felthe understood. 

"You're sure this is the place?" he demanded, and on the man's muchinjured protestation, "Because if it isn't I'll wring your neckinstead of Kerissen's, " he cheerfully promised and set his poleagainst the wall, showing the man how to steady it. It was not thebest climbing arrangement in the world, but time had been extremelylimited, and the one-eyed man not inclined to pursue anyinvestigations which would advertise their expedition. 

Wrapping the rope about his shoulders, he started to pull himself upthat notched pole the Arab was holding against the wall, feelingdesperately for any hold for toes and fingers in the rough chunksbetween the old bricks, and breathing hard he reached the top andthrew one leg over. He felt something grind through the serge of histrousers and sting into the flesh. 

"Ground glass--the Old Boy!" said Billy through his teeth. Hehoisted himself cautiously, and with his handkerchief swept the topof the wall as clean as he could. He heard the little pieces fallwith a perilously loud tinkling sound, and flattened himself uponthe wall, and strained his eyes through the darkness of the garden, but no alarm was raised. The shadows seemed empty. 

He hoped to the Lord that no disturbance would break out in thegarden, for the man below would be off in the canoe like a flash. Hehad no illusions about the one-eyed man's loyalty, but the fellowwas already in the secret; he was needy and resourceful and astrustworthy as any dragoman that he could have gone to. And adragoman would have had a reputation and a patronage he'd fear tolose. This melancholy Arab, hawking crocodiles for a Greek Jew, hadmore to gain than lose. 

By now he had caught the end of the rough hook over the top of thewall, and let down the knotted rope into the garden below. It waslong enough, thank goodness, he thought, wondering under whatcircumstances and in what company he would ascend it again. Thenwith one more keen look into the garden, and a reassuring touch ofthe pocket where his revolver bulged, he gripped the rope andswiftly lowered himself. 

Keeping close to the wall he pressed toward the buildings on theright, which he had been told was the wing of the harem, and as hestepped forward a flat black shadow near the wall came suddenly tolife. It sprang to its feet, revealing a shrouded little form, wrapped and hooded in black, and ran to him with steps that stumbledin excitement. 

"Quick, quick!" breathed an almost inaudible voice of terror, andBilly flung one strong arm about the girl and dashed toward thedangling rope. Gripping it with one hand he flung the light figureover his left shoulder, and with a cheerily whispered "Hang tight, "he threw himself into the ascent. It was arm-wrenching, muscle-racking work, with that dead weight upon him, but the touchof those soft arms clinging childishly about his neck seemed todouble and treble his strength, and with incredible quickness helifted her to the top of the wall, and then, catching her by thewrists, he lowered her into the upreaching clasp of the Arab. 

An instant more and he had reversed his rope ladder and climbed downbeside her as she stood waiting, and in the throbbing triumph ofthat moment he flung his arm grippingly about her to sweep her intothe boat. But as she raised her face to his, the shrouding mantlefell away, and he found himself staring down into the exultant faceand bright, dark eyes of a girl he had never seen before. 

Back of them beyond the wall, pandemonium was breaking out. 

 [Illustration: "He found himself staring down into the bright dark eyes of a girl he had never seen"]

CHAPTER XII

THE GIRL FROM THE HAREM

He was dumb with the shock. Then, "Who are you?" he demanded. "Andwhere is she--where is Arlee Beecher?"

On her own face the astonishment grew. "What you mean? Frederick--henot send you?" she gasped, and then as the outcries grew louder andlouder behind them she gripped convulsively at his arms. "Oh, quick!come away--quick, quick!" she besought. 

"I came for Arlee Beecher--an American girl. Isn't she held here?Isn't she back there?"

"What you going to do? What----"

"I'm going to get her!" he said fiercely. "Tell me----"

He had caught her and unconsciously shook her as if to shake thewords out of her. Furiously she struggled with him. 

"Let me go. No, no, she is not there! No one is there! You are gonecrazy to stay! They will kill me if they catch me--they will fireover the wall. Oh, for God's sake, help me quick!"

"She's not there?" he repeated stupidly, and then at her vehement"No, _no_! I tell you _no_!" he drew a breath of deep astonishmentand chagrin, and turned to stow her safely low in the boat. Hurriedly he and the one-eyed man bent over their paddles, and veryswiftly the long, dark canoe went gliding down the stream, but notany too swiftly, for in an instant they heard a triumphant yellbehind them, and then light, thudding feet along the path. 

Steadily Billy urged the canoe forward with powerful strokes thatseemed to be lifting it out of the water at each impulse, and theyswept past a wall that reaching to the river bank must block theirpursuers for a time, and though there was a path after that, therewas soon another wall, and no more pursuit along the water edge. Butevery opening ahead now might mean an ambush, and as soon as anarrow lane showed between the houses to the left, the one-eyed mansteered swiftly there and Billy sprang out with the girl and theyraced through the lane into the adjoining street. 

He looked up and down it; either they had got out at the wrong laneor the cab they had ordered to be in waiting had failed them, butthere was no time for speculation and they walked on as fast as theycould without the appearance of flight. The stray loiterers on thedark street stared curiously as they passed, to see a young Americanin gray tweeds, his cap pulled over his eyes, with a woman in theMohammedan wrap and mantle, but no one stopped them, and in anotherminute they saw a lonely cab rattling through the streets andclimbed quickly in. 

"And now, for Heaven's sake, tell me all about it!" besought BillyB. Hill, staring curiously at his most unforeseen companion. 

With a deep-drawn sigh of relief she had snuggled back against thecushioned seat, and now she flung off the shrouding mantle andlooked up to meet his gaze with a smile of excited triumph. 

She had the prettiest teeth he had ever seen, lovely little rows ofpearls, and the biggest and brightest of dark eyes with wide lashescurling dramatically back. Even in the thrill and elation of themoment there was a spark of provocation in those eyes for thegood-looking young man who stared down at her, and Billy would havebeen a very wooden young man, indeed, if he had not felt a tinglingexcitement in this unexpected capture, for all the destruction ofhis romantic plans. So this, he thought rapidly, was the foreigngirl in Kerissen's house, and Arlee, bless her little golden head, was safe where she planned, in Alexandria. A warm glow of happinessenveloped him at that. 

"Now tell me all about it, " he demanded again. "You are running awayfrom Kerissen?"

"Oh, yes, " she cried eagerly. "You must not let him catch us. We aresafe--yes?"

"I should rather think so, " Billy laughed. "And there's a gun in mypocket that says so. .. . And so you sent me that message to-day bythat little native girl? How in the world did that happen?"

"That girl is one who will do a little for money, you understand, "said the Viennese, "and I have told her to look sharp out for aforeign gentleman who come to save me. You see I have sent for afriend, and I think that he--but never mind. That girl she comerunning this afternoon to where I am shut in way back in the palace, and she say that a foreign gentleman is painting a picture out inthe street, and he stare very cunning at her. So I tell her to findout if he is the one for me, and to tell him to come quick thisnight. She was afraid to take note--afraid the eunuch catch her. Soshe went to you. She told afterwards that you ask her if there isany strange lady there anxious to get away, and she give you themessage and my handkerchief and you say you will come--and my, howyou give me one great surprise!"

"And a great disappointment, " said Billy grinning. 

"Oh, no, no, " she denied, eyes and lips all mischievous smiles. "Isay to myself, 'My God! That is a fine-looking young man! He and Iwill have something to say to each other'--h'm?"

"Now who in the world are you?" demanded Billy bluntly. "And how didyou happen to get into all this?"

Volubly she told. She dwelt at picturesque length upon her shiningplace upon the Viennese stage; she recounted her triumphs, sheprophesied the joy of the playgoers at her return to them. Darklyshe expatiated upon the villainy of the Turkish Captain, who hadlured her to such incarceration. Gleefully she displayed thediamonds upon her small person which she was extracting from thataffair. 

"Not so bad, after all--h'm?" she demanded, in a brazen littlecontent. "Maybe that prison time make good for me, " and Billy shookhis head and chuckled outright at the little baggage. 

But through his amusement a prick of uneasiness was felt. Thepicture she had painted of the Captain corroborated his wildestimaginings. 

"You're dead sure you know all that was going on in that palace?" hedemanded. "There wasn't any American girl coaxed into it on somepretext?"

He wanted merely the reassurance of her answer, but to his surpriseand growing alarm she hesitated, looking at him half fearfully andhalf ashamedly. "Oh, I--I don't know about that, " she murmured, withevasive eyes. "An American girl--very light hair--yes?"

"Very light hair--Oh, good God!" He leaned forward, gripping herwrist as if afraid she would spring out of the carriage. "You saidshe wasn't there, " he thrust at her in a voice that rasped. 

"I said I don't know--don't know any such name you say. I never hearit. You hurt me--take your hand away. "

"Not till you tell me. " But he loosened his harsh grip. "Now tell meall you know--_please_ tell me all you know, " he besought with asudden melting into desperate entreaty. Worriedly he stared at thiscurious little kitten-thing beside him on whose truth now that othergirl's life was resting. 

"Well, I tell you true I do not know that name, " began FritziBaroff, with a little sullen dignity over her shame. "And I savedyour life, for it was death for you to go back to that palace. Youheard them coming for us. You would have got yourself killed andthat little girl would be no better. Now I can tell you how to helpher. "

"All right--tell me, " said the young American in a tense voice. "Tell me everything you know about it, " and Fritzi told him, throwing aside all pretense of her uncertainty about Arlee, revealing every detail of the situation that she knew. 

And from the heights of his gay relief Billy Hill was flung backinto the deeps of desperate indignation. The anger that had surgedup in him that afternoon when he had felt his fears confirmed flamedup in him now in a fire of fury. His blood was boiling. .. . ArleeBeecher in the power of that Turkish devil! Arlee Beecher prisonedwithin that ghastly palace! It was unreal. It was monstrous. .. . Thatradiant girl he had danced with, that teasing little sprite, halfflouting, half flirting. Why, the thing was unthinkable!

He put a hand on the dancer's arm. "We must go to the consul atonce, " he said. "We must get her out to-night. "

"Consul!" The girl gave a short, derisive laugh. "This is no matterfor consuls, my young friend. The law is slow, and by the time thatlaw will stand knocking upon the palace doorstep, your little girlwith the fair hair will be buried very deep and fast--I think shewould not be the first woman bricked into those black walls. .. . Youmust go about this yourself. .. . You are in love with her--yes?" sheadded impertinently, with keen, uptilted eyes. 

"That's another story, " Billy curtly informed her. He made noattempt to analyze his feeling for Arlee Beecher. She had enchantedhim in those two days that he had known her. She had obsessed histhoughts in those two days of her disappearance. Now that he wasaware of her peril every selfish thought was overwhelmed in burningindignation. He told himself that he would do as much for any girlin her situation, and, indeed, so hot ran his rage and so dearly didhis young blood love rash adventure and high-handed justice, thatthere was some honest excuse for the statement!

"Zut! A man does not risk his neck for a matter of indifference!"said the little Baroff sagely, her knowing eyes on Billy's grimyoung face. "So I am to be the sister to you--the Platonicfriend--h'm?" she observed with droll resignation. "Never mind--Iwill help you get her out as you got me--_Gott sei dank!_ There is away, I think--if you are not too particular about that neck. I willtell you all and draw you a plan when we get to a hotel. "

But before they got to a hotel there was an obstacle or two to beovercome. A lady in Mohammedan wraps might not be exactly _personagrata_ at fashionable hotels at midnight. Casting off the wrapFritzi revealed herself in a little pongee frock that appeared to besuitable for traveling, and with two veils and Billy's cap for afoundation she produced an effect of headgear not unlike that ofsome bedraped tourists. 

"I arrived on the night train, " she stated as they drew up beforethe shining hotel. "It is late now for that night train--but wewaited for my luggage, which you will observe is lost. So I pay formy room in the advance--I think you had better give me some moneyfor that--I have nothing but these, " and she indicated her flashingdiamonds. 

"My name, " said Billy, handing over some sovereigns with the firstray of humor since her revelation to him, "my name, if you shouldcare to address me, is Hill--William B. Hill. "

"William B. Hill, " she echoed with an air of elaborate precision, and then flashed a saucy smile at him as he helped her out of thecarriage. "What you call Billy, eh?"

"You've got it, " he replied in resignation. 

"Hill--that means a mountain, " she commented. "A mountain of goodluck for me--h'm? And that B--what is that for?"

"My middle name, " said Billy patiently, as they reached the door theArab doorman was holding open for them. 

Absently she laughed. Her dark eyes were sparkling at the vision ofthe safe and shining hotel, the dear familiar luxury, the sounds andsights of her lost Continental life. A few late arrivals from somedance gave a touch of animation to the wide rooms, and Fritzi's eyesclung delightedly to the group. 

"God, how happy I am!" she sighed. 

Billy was busy avoiding the clerk's knowing scrutiny. It was thesame clerk he had coerced with real cigars to enlighten himconcerning Arlee Beecher, and he felt that that clerk was thinkingthings about him now, mistaken and misguided things, about hispredilections for the ladies. Philosophically he wondered where theyhad better try after this. 

But he underestimated the battery of Fritzi's charms, or else theserene assurance of her manner. 

"My letters--letters for Baroff, " she demanded of the clerk. "Noneyet. Then my room, please. .. . But I sent a wire from Alexandria. That stupid maid, " she turned to explain to Billy, her air the laststand of outraged patience. "She is at the train looking for thatluggage she lost, " she added to the clerk, and thereupon sheproceeded to arrange for the arrival of the fictitious maid whomBilly heard himself agreeing to go back and fetch if she did notturn up soon, and to engage a room for herself--a much nicer roomthan Billy himself was occupying--then handed over Billy'ssovereigns and turned happily away jingling the huge key of herroom. 

"It is a miracle!" she cried again, exultant triumph in every prettyline of her. "My heart dances, my blood is singing--Oh, if I were onthe stage now, the music crashing, the lights upon me, the housepacked! I would enchant them! I would dance myself mad. .. . Ah, whatyou say now--shall we have a little bottle of champagne to drink toour better acquaintance, Mr. Billy?"

"Not this evening, " said the unemotional young man. "You are goingto sit down at this desk and draw me those plans of the palace. "

Petulantly she shrugged at her rescuer. "How stupid--to-morrow youmay not have that chance for the champagne, " she observed. "Youthink of nothing but to go back and get killed, then? And I musthelp you? Very well. Here, I will draw it for you and I will tellyou all I know. "

She sat down at a desk and began working out the diagrams, and atlast she handed the paper to Billy, who sat beside her, and pointedout the rooms and scribbled the words on them for his aid. 

"It is very simple, " she said. "That first square is for the court, and the next square is for the garden. The hall of banquets comesso, between them, and the hall is two stories tall, and across thetop of that, from the _selamlik_ to the harem, runs that littlesecret passage. And at the end of it, here, is the little panel intothe rose room where she is, and beside the panel outside in thepassage are the little steps that go up to that tower room, wherethey put me on the top. And from that top room I broke out a lockeddoor on the roof--that is how I got away. I climbed down at the endof the harem from one roof to another where it is unfinished. .. . Therose room is here on the garden, but the windows have bars, andthose bars are too strong for breaking. I have tried it! There is noway out but the secret way by that passage into the men's wing, orthe other way through the door into the long hall and down thelittle stairs into the anteroom below. How Seniha hated me when Imade laughter and noise and talk going up and down those stairs tomy motor car!"

She laughed impishly, pointing out Seniha's rooms, facing on thestreet, and contributing several bizarre anecdotes of the palacelife. But Billy was not to be diverted, and went over the plansagain and again, before the diminished number of lights and thehoverings of the attendant Arabs recalled the lateness of the hourto his absorption. 

But late as they were they were not the only occupants of the lift. Returning from a masquerade, a domino over his arm, stood Falconer. Civilly enough he returned Billy's greeting, with no apparentawareness of the little lady in pongee, but Billy was conscious thather flaunting caliber had been promptly registered. And to hisannoyance the actress raised big eyes of reproach to him. 

"No champagne for me, after all, Mr. Billy!" she sighed. "You arenot very good for a celebration--h'm?. .. Well, then--good night. "

Her parting smile as she left the car adroitly included the tallaristocratic young Englishman with the little moustache. 

Sharply Billy turned to him. "Come up to my room, please. I havesomething to say to you. "

In silence Falconer followed. Billy flung shut the door, drew a longbreath, and turned to him. 

"Do you know where I got that girl?" he demanded. 

It took several seconds of Falconer's level-lidded look of distasteto bring home the realization. 

"Oh, see here, " he protested, "wait till you understand thisthing. .. . I pulled that girl over Kerissen's back wall at teno'clock to-night. I thought she was Miss Beecher, but a mistake hadbeen made and the wrong girl arrived. But the point is this--_ArleeBeecher is in that palace_. This girl saw her and talked with herlast night. Now we've got to get her out. It's a two-man job, " saidBilly, "or you'd better believe I'd never have come to you again. "

He had given it like a punch, and it knocked the breath out ofFalconer for one floored instant. But he was no open-mouthedbeliever. The thing was more unthinkable to him than to Billy'sromantic and adventurous mind, and the very notion was so revoltingthat he fought it stoutly. 

From beginning to end Billy hammered over the story as he knew it, explaining, arguing, debating, and then he drew out the plans of thepalace and flung them on the table by Falconer while he continuedhis excited tramping up and down the room. 

Falconer studied the plans, worried his moustache, stared at Billy'stense and resolute face, and took up the plans again, his own chinstubborn. 

"Granted there's a girl--you can't be sure it's Miss Beecher, " hemaintained doggedly. "This Baroff girl had no idea of her name. NowMiss Beecher would have told her name, the very first thing, itappears to me, and the names of her friends in Cairo, asking for theBaroff's offices in getting a letter to me--us. "

"She may have been too hurried to get to it. She had so manyquestions to ask. And she probably expected to see the girl againthe next day or night. "

"Possibly, " said Falconer without conviction. 

"But where, then, is Miss Beecher?"

"We may hear from her to-morrow morning. "

"We won't, " said Billy. 

Falconer was silent. 

"Good Lord!" the American burst out, "there can't be two girls inCairo with blue eyes and fair hair whom Kerissen could have luredthere last Wednesday! There can't be two girls with chaperonsdeparting up the Nile! Why--why--the whole thing's as clear tome--as--as a house afire!"

"I don't share your conviction. "

"Very well, then, if you don't think it is Miss Beecher, you don'thave to go into this thing. If you can feel satisfied to lay thematter before the ambassador and let that unknown girl wait for thearm of the law to reach her, you are at perfect liberty, of course, to do so. " Billy was growing colder and colder in tone as he grewhotter and hotter in his anger. 

Falconer said nothing. He was a very plucky young man, but he had noliking at all for strange and unlawful escapades. He didn'tparticularly mind risking his neck, but he liked to do it inaccredited ways, in polo, for instance, or climbing Swiss peaks, orswimming dangerous currents. .. . But he was young--and he had redhair. And he remembered Arlee Beecher. These three days had not beenhappy ones for him, even sustained as he was by righteousindignation. And if there was any chance that this prisoned girl wasArlee, as this infatuated American was so furiously sure--Hereflected that Billy was doing the sporting thing in giving him thechance of it. 

"I'll join you, " he said shortly. "I can't let it go, you know, ifthere's a chance of its being Miss Beecher. "

"Good!" said Billy, holding out his hand and the two young menclasped silently, eyeing each other with a certain mutual respectthough with no great increase of liking. 

"Now, this is my idea, " Billy went on, and proceeded to develop it, while Falconer carefully studied the plans and made a shrewdsuggestion here and there. 

It was late in the morning when they parted. 

"You must muzzle that Baroff girl, " was Falconer's parting caution. "We must keep this thing deuced quiet, you know. "

"Of course. He shan't get wind of it ahead. "

"Not only that. We mustn't have talk afterwards. It would kill thegirl, you know. "

Billy nodded. "She would hate it, I expect. "

"Hate it? My word, it would finish her--a tale of that kind goingthe rounds. .. . She could never live it down. "

"Live it down? It would set her up in conversation for the rest ofher life!" Billy chuckled softly. "That is, if it comes out allright--and that's the only way I can imagine its coming out. "

With one hand on the door Falconer paused to stare back at him. "Youdon't mean she'd want to _tell_ about it!" he ejaculated withunplumbed horror. 

Billy was suddenly sobered. "Well, nobody but you and I and theBaroff know it now, " he said, "and I think we can keep the Baroff'smouth shut. .. . I'll see her in the morning. You'd better get in anap to-morrow, and I will, too, for we'll want steady nerves. Goodnight; I'm glad you're going with me. "

"I'm damned if I'm glad, " said the honest Englishman, with a wrygrin. "If we get our throats cut, I hope Miss Beecher will returnfrom the desert in time for our obsequies. "

"Something in that red-headed chap I like after all, " soliloquizedBilly B. Hill, as he turned toward his long-deferred repose. "Hangedif he hasn't grit to go into a thing on an off chance!. .. Now, asfor me, I'm _sure_. "

CHAPTER XIII

TAKING CHANCES

Late as he went to sleep, Billy B. Hill was up in good season thatSunday morning. The need for cautioning Fritzi Baroff haunted him, and he was not satisfied until he had had breakfast with that livelyyoung lady and laid down the law to her upon the situation. 

She was very loath not to talk about herself at first. She wanted totell her tale to the papers and see if one of them would be hardyenough to publish the story of the outrageous incarceration; shewanted to cable the Viennese theater where she had played of hersensational detention--in short, she wanted to get all the possiblepublicity out of her durance vile and to advertise her small personfrom Cairo to the Continent. 

But Billy was urgent. "You just bide a wee on this publicity stunt, "he demanded. "Cable your manager and press agent all you wantto--but don't talk around the hotel here--and whatever you do andwhatever you say, keep Miss Beecher's name and mine out of it. "

He was very decided about that, and because she was very grateful tohim and because she liked him and because she lacked other friendsand other pocketbooks, the little Viennese held her tongue asdirected. And she borrowed as much money as Billy would lend her, and drove off to the small shops which were open that day, and founda frock or two and a hat which she declared passable, and returnedtransfigured to the hotel and rendered the table where she lunchedwith Billy, with the air of possessing him, quite the mostconspicuous in the room. The ladies gazed past them with chill eyes;the men stared covertly, with the surreptitious envy with which eventhe most virtuous of men surveys a lucky devil. And Billy sadlyperceived that he was acquiring a reputation. 

He did not blame Miss Falconer for turning haughtily aside as he andhis vivid companion went past them in the veranda. But he did thinkher disdainful lack of memory a little overdone. 

His cheeks were still red as he looked away from her and encounteredthe direct eyes of the girl who followed her. 

"Oh, how do you do, Mr. Hill?" said Lady Claire, as clear as abell. "It's _such_ a nice day, isn't it?" she added, a littlebreathlessly, as she went by. 

"It's much better than it was, " said Billy, and he turned back toopen the door for her. 

"Claire!" said Miss Falconer from within. 

"Coming, dear, " said Lady Claire, and with a little smile of defiantfriendliness at the young American she was gone. 

But the memory of that plucky little smile stayed right with Billy. The girl liked him, she liked him in spite of his unknownantecedents, his preposterous picture, his conspicuous companion. She had a mind of her own, that tall English girl with the lovelyeyes and the proud mouth. In a warm surge of friendliness histhoughts went out to her, and he wished vaguely that he could lether know how fine he thought she was. 

Within an hour that vague wish came true. He had packed Fritzi off, with a newly acquired maid, for a drive up and down the safe publicstreets and he had re-interviewed the one-eyed man and the nativechauffeur that the one-eyed man introduced for the evening's work, and he was at one of the public desks in the writing room, inditinga letter to his aunt, which, he whimsically appreciated, might behis last mortal composition, and reflecting thankfully that it washighly unnecessary to make a will, when Lady Claire strolled intothe room and over to a desk. 

She tried a pen frowningly, and Billy jumped to offer another. "Oh, thank you, " she said. She seemed not to have seen him before. 

"That was rather nice of you, you know, " he said gravely. 

She looked up at him. 

"I'm not really a wolf, " he continued, the gravity surrendering tohis likable, warm smile, "and I'm glad you recognized it. "

Her reply took him unawares. "I think you're _splendid_, " said LadyClaire. "I thought so in the bazaars when you came to my help andstood up to that _beastly_ German. "

"Oh, he wasn't such a beastly German, after all, " Billy deprecated. "And here I've had a message to you from him and never remembered togive it. The fellow called on me the next morning in gala attire andoffered every apology and satisfaction in his power--even thesatisfaction of the duel, if I desired it. I didn't. But I promisedto express his deep apologies to you. He was horribly shocked athimself. He'd been drinking, he said, to forget a 'sadness' whichpossessed him. His lady love had failed to keep her tryst and lifewas very dark. "

"I don't wonder at her, " said Lady Claire unforgivingly. "I'm surehe must have been horrid to her!"

"I rather think she was horrid to him, " Billy reflected, "althoughshe was a very sprightly looking lady love. He showed me her picturein the back of his watch. .. . By _George_!" he uttered violently. 

"What is it?"

"Oh--an idea, that's all. Something I must really attend to beforeI--this afternoon, I mean. But there's no hurry about it, " he addedcheerily. 

Oh, Billy, Billy! Not even with his blood hot with thoughts of theevening's work, not even with his memory ridden with Arlee's gaywitchery, could he keep his restless young eyes from laughing downat her. But there wasn't a notion in the back of his honest head asto the picture he was making in Lady Claire's eyes as he leaned, long-limbed, broad-shouldered, lazily at ease against the desk, hisgray eyes very bright between their dark lashes, his dark hairsweeping back from his wide forehead. 

"Are you sure?" she asked of him, with the smile that he drew fromher. "Is it the inspiration for another picture?"

"No, no--that was my first and my last. That was the one purplebloom of my art. I have laid my brushes by. .. . But I'm keeping youfrom that letter you were going to write. "

"It's just a few lines for Miss Falconer, " Lady Claire unnecessarilyexplained. "We are going to drive out to the Gezireh Palace Hotelfor tea, and she thought her brother might like to go out with us ifhe came in in time. "

She did not add why Miss Falconer was unable to write her own notes, but slanted her blue-hatted head over the desk and then hastilyblotted her brief lines and tucked the sheet into an envelope. Hesitantly she looked up at Billy. 

"Have you been out to the Gezireh Palace?" she very innocentlyinquired. 

"Alone, " said Billy. 

"It's very jolly there, " said she. "It's so gay--and the music is_quite_ good. "

"H'm, " meditated Billy. "The condemned man ate a hearty tea ofOrange Pekoe and cress sandwiches, " he reflected silently. He alsoreflected that Miss Falconer would be furious--and that invitedhim--and that time was interminable and that this expedition was asgood a way of getting through the afternoon as any other. Thereuponhe turned to the English girl, with a humorous challenge in hisgaze. "I wonder if you and Miss Falconer would let this be my teaparty?" he suggested. 

"Miss Falconer will be delighted, " said Lady Claire mendaciously. 

The traces of that delight, however, lay beneath so well schooled anexterior that they were decidedly non-apparent. Nor did RobertFalconer's mien reveal any hint of joy when he returned to the hoteland found the two ladies starting with Billy. He joined them withrather the air of a watch dog, but that air soon wore away duringthe long drive under the spell of young Hill's frank friendlinessand gay good humor. For Billy was extravagantly in spirits. Excitement stirred in him like wine; his blood was on fire withthoughts of the evening. 

"It's the fool _lark_ of the thing, " he said, half apologetically, to Falconer's wonder when the two young men were alone for a minuteon the Gezireh verandas. "Didn't you ever want to be a pirate?"

The red-headed young man nodded. "Yes, but this business doesn'tmake me feel like a pirate--more like a second-story man!"

"I've left letters with Fritzi Baroff, " said Hill, "and if we're notback by morning, she's to go to the authorities with them. "

"That won't do us any good, " said the Englishman grimly. 

But after the ladies returned it was a very merry-seeming tea party. Even Miss Falconer unbent to the artist, as she persisted in callingBilly, though he had dutifully enlightened her that engineering washis true and proper life work, and art but a random diversion, andshe promised to show him the sketches which she had been making, and piled him with questions about his mysterious America. 

And Lady Claire was very prettily animated, and rallied Falconerupon his absent-mindedness and told Billy tales of her English homeand how her father had threatened to change the name of the Hall to_Mädchenheim_ because there were five daughters of them. "_Five_girls near an age, Mr. Hill, and all poor as church mice!" she hadblithely asserted. 

But from what Billy heard of balls and hunters and "seasons, " hegleaned that being poor as church mice, for these five titled girls, meant merely an effort in keeping up with the things they feltshould be theirs by right divine. And as Billy listened, feeling theforce of the girl's attraction, the charm of her serene confidenceand the pleasant air of security and well-being that hedged her in, he stole a covert glance at Falconer's unrevealing countenance andreflected that it was rather a stormy day for that young man when hebecame entangled with the fortunes of little Miss Beecher. It wasalso a stormy day for himself, but he felt that storms belonged morenaturally to his adventurous lot. 

 * * * * *

But it was characteristic of Falconer when once committed to a plannot to open his mind to the objections which besieged it. So thatnight, at the fall of dark, as the two young men motored forthtogether, he maintained a stolid resolution which refused to lookback. The approach of the danger was tuning up his nerves, andwhatever his common sense might think about it, his youth and pluckgreeted the adventure with a quickening heart and a rash warmth ofblood. 

Both young men were resolute and confident. Either would have beenmore than human if he had not looked a trifle askance upon the otherand wished to thunder that he had been able to go into it alone andto have tasted the intoxication of delivering the girl single-handedout of the den of thieves. But the success of the plan wasparamount, as Billy reminded himself. 

He found himself hoping wildly that she would see him as well asFalconer. 

"She has probably forgotten all about me, " he thought ruefully. "Shewon't remember that dance with me, nor that chat next morning. I'mjust an Also Met. She won't even perceive me. She'll see thatsandy-haired deliverer--and she'll tell him how right he was and howgood to come after her----"

Thus jealousy darkly painted his undoing. "But, darn it, I had toask him!" Thus he downed his ungenerous thoughts. "It needed two menat least--and besides, I don't want any handicap of gratitude inthis. "

They left the automobile in the Mohammedan graveyard with exact andimpressive instructions. And then they stole back among the gloomytrees and ghostly tombs to where the canal washed the foot of thelittle terraces, and there the one-eyed man sat waiting in thecanoe, a figure of profound misanthropy. 

Silently he lifted a stricken but set countenance, and they climbedin and the three paddled off, approaching the back of the palacewith wary eyes, for they were afraid that a guard might now be setupon the walls. But Billy had argued that Kerissen was unaware ofFritzi's knowledge of Arlee's identity; in fact she had at firstsupposed her a willing supplanter like herself, and so he would notbe apprehensive of any of her revelations. And he did not dream thatFritzi's rescuers were interested in Arlee. 

At the strip of path the canoe made softly to shore and the twoyoung men climbed out, while the Arab remained in the canoe, hissingle eye peering into the darkness. This time Billy had providedthree stout, but narrow, ladders, constructed of two poles nailedtogether with occasional cross pieces that gave narrow room for afoot. He set one of these in place against the wall now, groundingits ends deep in the soft earth, so that it would remain inreadiness for any sudden descent. Then from the top of the wall theyreconnoitered the scene before them. 

It was very dark. The garden was full of blotting shadows, and thelong wing of the harem lay almost in darkness, with only a faintbeam from two adjacent windows to reveal a sign of life. Thosewindows were on the third story, next the angle made by the union ofthe banquet hall and the harem, and Billy's heart quickened as herecognized the location of the rose room. 

"That's it--that's her room, " he whispered excitedly to Falconer. 

Falconer stared and nodded. "I wish that beastly hall wasn't in theway ahead of us. I'd like to see what lights are in the windows inthat court beyond. "

"We might both go and take a look, " said Billy doubtfully, "but Iguess you had better make, straight for your roofs. It wouldn't doto have us both nabbed. Do you hear anything?"

They listened, crouching flat upon the wall, straining their eyestoward the palace. There was a high wind blowing and above them theleaves of the palm trees were slapping against each other, and belowthe shrubs and flowers were stirring restlessly. But the noise ofthe wind, they felt, was helpful to cover the sounds of theirapproach. 

"Why can't I make my way around on top of this wall and climb on theroofs from the start?" Falconer questioned, and Billy answered, "Iasked her that. She said it couldn't be done. You'd have to climbthrough some unsafe rubbish. The best way is down and up again inthat angle that she showed me. Shall we start?"

The same impulse made both men examine their revolvers, then dropthem in readiness into their right-hand coat pockets. They movedalong the top of the wall till they reached the angle with the wallon their right, and then they lowered the same knotted rope whichBilly had used the night before, but now another rope added to itmade it into a rope ladder. Suspending that over the top of the wallby iron hooks, they slipped down it, each with a pole ladder in hisarms, and with another hook of iron they drove the ends down intothe earth, so that the rope would not wave out in the wind andeither betray them or become displaced. 

It was insecure enough, anyway, but they felt it ought to be left inreadiness for a flight that might have no second to waste. Now, witheyes sharply challenging the shadows, they stole along the edge ofthe palace. 

Staring up at the building, Billy stopped. "Here's a place a storyand a half high--you could almost climb up by those carvings withoutany ladder. And there's the next higher roof back of it--and thenyou must go there to the left. "

"I can make it, " said Falconer, surely. "Now how much time shall Iallow you for your sawing--fifteen minutes?"

"Guess you'd better, " Billy reflected, and they compared watches. 

It was tremendously difficult to arrive at any sort of concertedaction on this bewildering expedition, but they were hoping toachieve it. Their plan had the simplicity of all desperate measures. One from below and one from above they were to make their way tothat rose room and fight the way out with the girl. They consideredit wiser to come from two directions, for if one were discovered andthe alarm raised, the other had still a chance of getting off withArlee, and if one were trying to escape, the other could cover hisflight. They had drawn straws for their positions, and Billy hadbeen slightly relieved that the entrance from below, which heconsidered a trifle more difficult, had fallen to him. He feltresponsible, as well as he might, for Falconer's neck. 

Now he steadied one narrow ladder of poles while Falconer crept upit and then drew it up after him; and after a few moments ofwaiting, crouched in the shadow, Billy saw the Englishman's figurereappear against the sky on top of a higher roof. The route overthe old buildings had been found, so Billy turned and crept forwardalong the wall, carrying the last long ladder of poles in his hand. It was an unwieldy thing to carry and it distracted his attentionharassingly. 

"My job, " said he to himself, "is evidently to make a racket anddraw their fire from below while that red-headed chap carries Arleeoff from above. Well, I hope to the Lord he does. When I think ofher here----"

But it was unnerving to think of her here, so he didn't. He kept hismind steadily on the plan. He had reached the stone steps that ledfrom the garden to the harem now, and laying down his pole-likeladder he slipped up them and turned the handle. 

But the door was locked. Fearful lest the grating of the knob shouldhave roused some watcher, he ran down the steps and hurried into theshadow of the banquet hall, where he stood close beside a pillaruntil he satisfied himself of the objects in the court beyond. Hesaw an edge of light along the crack of a closed door to the left onthe ground floor of the _selamlik_, and in the higher stories abovethat a couple of windows showed a pale illumination. On the right, in the harem, only one window betrayed a ray of light. Altogetherthe old pile was as gloomy and gruesome as a tomb. 

Billy stared across the court to where the columned vestibule, uniting the two Ls, indicated the door. He had been told a watchmanslept there, but he could see nothing now but vague outlines of thearches of the vestibule. To the left was the open passage left forthe entry of the automobile and horses, but this, too, was roofed sothat a black shadow lay over it. But for that watchman Billy wouldhave made his way to those doors to draw back the bars in readiness, but fearful of raising an alarm, he judged it was better to leaveescape to chance and turn his attention to his entry. 

He went back now for his ladder, and on the right side of thebanquet hall, up under the arched roof, he discovered the woodengrating where Fritzi had described it. Against this wall he placedhis ladder and climbed to the top, from which he could reach up andclasp the spindles of the grating above him. 

He drew himself swiftly up to this, and the end of his pole wasdislodged by his departure and fell to the inlaid pavement with abang that seemed to him to carry to the farthest echoes of thesounding court. Instantly there was an answering clatter of steps. 

Like a monkey Billy clung to the grating, thrusting his toesdesperately into the first openings they could find, hanging on withhis hands for dear life, holding himself as close up in the darknessas he could, and nearly twisting his neck off in the effort to watchwhat was going on below him. 

The steps sounded nearer and nearer, and a huge Nubian in baggybloomers and a short jacket was outlined in the court. His bare feetwere thrust into clattering English shoes. He peered about him for atime, with one hand pointing the muzzle of a revolver. Billy caughtthe unpleasant gleam of it; then the man stepped in underneath thearches of the hall and made a slow way across it. 

Directly in his path lay that fatal pole. It lay along the shadow ofa column, but its end protruded beyond that shadow and would surelycatch his eye. Billy tried to free his right hand to get at a gun ofhis own. To be caught ridiculously like this, clutching like amonkey on a stick----!

Another man, shorter and bent, in a long robe and carrying alantern, now emerged from that door along whose closed edge Billyhad noticed the crack of light, and the Nubian diverged toward him. The pole was unnoticed and the two joined forces and made a slowcircle in the garden. Billy remembered that dangling rope, and witha thumping heart he hoped that it would hang unregarded in thatshadowed angle, overrun with vines. 

Apparently it did, for he heard the footsteps passing on without astop as he clung there to his grating, his muscles cramped, hissockets strained. Slowly the two recrossed the hall, talkingtogether in low gutturals and not apparently of unpleasant things, for a note of laughter sounded. They lingered in parley in thecourt, but by the time that he thought that he could not hang on aminute longer and would drop like a peach from the wall, theyseparated and each moved slowly away. The man with the lantern shutthe door after him and all was darkness there and the great Nubianwas blotted out beneath the arches of the vestibule. 

The fear that Falconer was in the palace alone made Billy desperate. Clinging with his feet and his left hand, he drew out a clasp knifewith a razor edge and hacked furiously at the delicate spindles andfrail carved work of the screen till he could thrust one arm throughthe opening. The work was easier then, but he had to resist thetemptation to seize the brittle stuff and break it in pieces, forfear the splintering sound would be too sharp. 

Torn between caution and impatience he worked on, and as soon as thehole was large enough he pulled himself cautiously up and droppedover the edge into the cage-like balcony on the other side. Thepanel which separated it from the rest of the old room was halfopen, and he stepped through it into what appeared utter darkness. 

He stood listening keenly, for he knew that he was standing belowthe rose room; the very spot where he was must be almost exactlybeneath that secret passage outside the panel in the rose room'swall. Not a sound came down to him and he dared not wait longer, butturned to the left and passed through the arched doorway into thenext great salon. 

As his eyes grew accustomed to the dark he saw that it was not utterblackness, but that some wan light from the paler night withoutfaintly penetrated through those jealously guarded windows--windowsnot so heavily screened, he had been told, as those upon the frontof the palace, for these were upon the court. He found time for aflash of horror at this stifling barricade as he made his hurriedway through the room and stepped out into the little anteroombeyond. 

Here he paused, for he knew that to the left, ahead of him, was thecurtained opening into the long salon upon the street, and withinthat, Fritzi had warned him, a eunuch sometimes slept or Senihaoccasionally came from her small salon to play on the piano thereand lingered apparently in wait. But no one seemed stirring, andBilly stole to the door on his right, opening on the encased stairs, and found it locked. Hurriedly he pried at it with a burglarioustool, and then a sudden outburst sounded overhead. 

There was a racket of hurrying feet and then a muffled explosion ofa shot. A hoarse voice yelled. Another shot, and then a thud ofsomething falling. 

Desperately Billy fired his gun into the lock. The noise did notmatter now and might serve to divert the fight from Falconer. Throwing his weight against the shattered lock, he bounded up thenarrow stairs and raced down the long hall to the door that wasbrightly gilded. From beyond, but fainter now, came the sounds ofconflict. With a heart beating to suffocation he flung open the doorand rushed into that room. 

CHAPTER XIV

IN THE ROSE ROOM

Candles flared on the table but not a figure greeted his eye. Theroom was deathly still; nothing stirred but the long draperiesfluttering in the wind. 

"Arlee!" he whispered in a voice strained with excitement. "ArleeBeecher, are you here?. .. Arlee!"

No voice answered. No motion revealed her. Only the candle flamesdanced drunkenly in a puff of air, flaunting their secret knowledgeof the tenant they had lighted. 

He darted to the tumbled bed and flung aside the covers; he lookedbeneath it and beneath the couch; he sent a candle's light travelingabout the empty whiteness of the bath. No little figure, pitifullysilenced, was, hidden there. The room was empty. And all the whilethat din sounded somewhere beyond them--running feet and stridentyells. 

"He's got her!" thought Billy, and first his heart leaped and thenit sank. For very dear to that boy's heart had been the dream ofrescuing her himself. And then he hated himself for that base envy. For what did it matter as long as little Arlee was safe, and thatshe was gone with Falconer, the empty room and the signs of hastydeparture all spoke in witness. He wondered sharply how they hadgone and whether he had better try to follow them and then thoughtit was shrewder to go back the way he had come and from below to tryto guard whatever descent they must make. 

He turned swiftly and crossed to the door. With a hand outstretchedtoward it he caught suddenly, beneath all the distant din, the clickof a sliding lock, and he whirled about, dropping his right handinto his pocket, to see a pale face staring at him from the otherside of the bed. 

"Not a move--or you drop!" said Captain Kerissen. The candle lightsglinted on the muzzle of a gun leveled steadily at him. 

"Stay where you are, " the Captain added, and Billy stayed, andthrough the dusk the two men stood eyeing each with a glare ofhatred. But Kerissen's eyes held hatred triumphant. 

"So, Monsieur, " said the Turk. "This is the midnight call yougentlemen pay--in the chamber of my wife. "

"Your wife!" Billy gave a snort of unbelief. "She says you did notmarry her!"

"When you are found dead--if you are found, " the other continued, looking lovingly along the sight, "there will not even be a questioninto the cause. You will be carted off like carrion--carrion thatprowled too near. "

"Just the same you've made a mistake, " said Billy in a dogged andargumentative tone. "I'm not interested in visiting any wife ofyours. The lady I'm representing says you didn't marry her. But shesays you did keep back most of her jewelry and she's giving thestory to the papers to-morrow unless I return with the stuffto-night. "

He could not guess what impression this speech was making. 

"I am not interested in your stories, Monsieur, " the Turk returnedblandly. "I am interested only in your dispatching--which I feelshould be prolonged beyond the mercy of a shot. "

"Look here, I'm not a common robber and you know it, " said Billy, and his voice sounded rough and angry. "I'm here to collect theproperty of the lady you detained here, while she was under contractin Vienna. I don't want anything more than _belongs_ to her. Sheleft----"

"With a great deal more upon her than she brought! But am I tosuppose, Monsieur, that you have made your way here, at somepersonal inconvenience, I should say, to discuss the generosity ofmy remuneration to the lady?" There was a tense silence and theCaptain continued in a low, almost purring voice, "You do notappear, even now, to comprehend the thing you have done. I shall domy best to make you comprehend--and before I have finished it may bethat I shall have a clearer explanation of this impulsive call. Youhave no notion, Monsieur, how certain things unloose the tongue--butyou shall discover. "

Billy saw his white teeth show in a deadly smile. Back of him adark, heavy figure appeared and the Captain, without turning hishead or moving his eyes or his gun from Billy, gave some rapiddirections in Turkish and the figure disappeared. It occurred toBilly like a flash that from that secret passage where the figurehad appeared there was a panel into the room on the right and thatroom had a door opening into the hall outside. The next moment hefelt the door behind him open. 

Then he pulled the trigger of that gun in his pocket in which hishand had been so lightly resting. The Captain seemed to fire thesame instant, but Billy had jumped aside as he shot his own gun andhe heard the bullet singing past his ear, and now, with his revolverout of his pocket, he shot again with an aim so true that the otherman's right hand gave a spasmodic jerk and the revolver wentspinning to the ground. 

Across the room he hurled himself, springing from the onslaught ofthe assailant entering behind him, and thrusting the cursing Captainfrom his path he leaped through the sliding panel. The lock clickedhome and he paused even in that moment of hammering pulses andpounding heart to fumble in the darkness to shut that other panelinto the next room, remembering Fritzi's warning that those locksneeded a key to open them from within. The minute's delay for thekey would mean many minutes for him. 

He stumbled against the tiny stairs that led to the tower roomthrough which Falconer had descended, but he did not dash up thosestairs for he heard the noise of feet overhead, as if returning frompursuit, and he darted straight on through the long, narrow, unlighted corridor, running like a hare. 

At the other end he crashed against a half-open door and fellheadlong down a flight of stairs. From his astonished fingers therevolver went clattering and though he picked himself up, batteredbut unbroken, at the foot, he dared not waste a minute to go backand hunt for the gun in the dark. He was totally at a loss fordirections; he had expected to find himself in the Captain's rooms, and the stairs were unknown. Now he could just make out a door aheadof him and sent it flying open, smash in the face of an astonishedblack boy who went stumbling backwards. 

Out went Billy's fist and caught the unguarded chin a staggeringblow, and as the boy reeled back he flung one hurried glance aboutthe big, lamp-lit chamber in which he found himself, the roomevidently of Captain Kerissen, and darted to an arsenal of weaponsthat glinted against the inlaid panels. Wrenching down the shortestscabbard he jerked out a most villainous looking two-edged knife andgripping this piratical weapon he bounded out the door, fled throughthe dim hall to his right, rounded a corner, to the right again, hearing the sounds of pursuit louder and louder now behind him, shotthrough a vast reception hall and plunged down a flight of stairs. 

From the darkness below a figure rose up to receive him with a griplike iron. Billy's right arm was doubled at his side; the blade ofthat villainous old dagger was pressed against the yielding softnessof the fellow's sash, but for the life of him Billy could not drivehome that knife against the human flesh. With a convulsive movementhe tore himself from those gorilla arms and sent up a desperatekick, then leaped past the staggering man, and with the unused knifein his teeth, he tore at the bars of the great gate in the wall athis left. The bars were stiff and primitive and resisted his furiousfingers, and the big gate-keeper, gasping for a moment against thestairs, suddenly straightened and sprang toward him. 

"Here's one hero that didn't open the door 'in the nick of time'!"raced through Billy's grimly humorous mind, as he dodged the savagethrust of a knife the man had drawn and turned and scuttled acrossthe court with the other on his heels. Through the arches he dartedand then down into the garden, sprinting as he had never sprintedbefore, on, on to the southwest angles of the wall, thanking Heavenfervently, as every step outdistanced his pursuer, that the man hadevidently no gun. 

The rope ladder was still there, blown free at the bottom now andwaving merrily in the wind. He snatched at it, dropping his knife inhis pocket, praying that the top hooks had not become dislodged, andafter him came the other man, hand over hand. Billy drew up his legsin a horrid fear of having them gripped or hacked at, and gained thetop just as the other's head appeared below, his knife gleaming inhis teeth. 

Like a flash Billy drew out his knife and cut the rope. There was awild yell from below and a screech of curses and imprecationsfollowing a rather sickening sounding thud, which persuaded Billy, peering down from above, that the victim's lungs at least wereunimpaired, and then to his great amazement a shot went winging uppast his ear. 

"Had a gun all the time--too fighting mad to think of it--knife morenatural!" he thought amazedly, sliding down the other side in ajiffy and then jerking his ladder down flat on the ground. 

Out in the shadows the one-eyed man was paddling earnestly tosafety. The shot so close at hand had been his sign for departure;he did not look back at Billy's shrill whistling nor his wildershouts, and as the yells on the other side of the wall were bringingthe inmates of the palace upon him, Billy had no more time forpersuasion. 

Off went his shoes and out into the canal he flung them, thenheadlong he plunged into the dark and uninviting water and struckout to the right, in the same direction in which the canoe wasgoing, keeping carefully in the shadow of the bank, on the otherside. 

In a few moments the canoe was lost from sight and Billy was leftalone, swimming between two steep walls of old palaces, weighed downby his tweeds, and maddened through and through with his inabilityto wring the neck of the one-eyed canoeist. The distance seemedunending to his slow progress but at last the palms of the cemeteryappeared upon the right hand bank, and he struck across the wideningwaters and climbed out on the first foot of the graveyard thatpresented itself. 

A dozen rods farther on the Arab was awaiting him in the canoe. Billy's mood did not invite conversation and he did not linger nowfor the other's explanations, but calling to him to wait he made inthrough the cemetery, dodging warily from tomb to tomb, till hereached the entrance of the main road. 

The motor was gone. He satisfied himself of that, and a wave ofrejoicing surged through him. That motor was to wait till one or theother arrived with the girl and then leave with all speed, while theother was to be left to the slower canoe. He was sure, now, thatFalconer had succeeded in carrying the thing through and Billy'sheart warmed to him. Then, for the first time, he felt somethingnumb and queer about his left arm and putting his hand on it hefound the sopping sleeve was torn and a warm ooze of blood wellingthrough the cold water from the canal. 

"Gosh, the chap winged me!" was his startled exclamation. "Feels asif it's going to sleep--glad it didn't go back on me in the ditch, there. " Then he pressed back into the shadows for he saw a figureedging forward beyond the corner of a tomb. After a moment'shesitation it came directly toward him. He saw it was RobertFalconer. 

Foreboding gripped him and he could scarcely keep himself fromshouting his eager question, but he hurried forward till the twostood face to face and then, "Where is she? Did you get her?" burstfrom him, and "Have you got her? Is she all right?" came at the sameinstant from Falconer. 

Blankly they stared at each other and a cold sense of failure wentover and over Billy like a sea. His voice shook with this new, sickening fear. "Didn't you see her at all?"

"Did you?" counter-demanded Falconer, and Billy stammered, "Why noI--I found the room empty. And I thought you were safely off withher. "

"Safely off!" said Falconer grimly. "I got in all right, thoughthere must be a new lock on the door of that room up top, but I madesome noise about it and ran plump into a fellow half way down thestairs. I threw him the rest of the way down, and he fired andbrought a couple of others swarming up at me but I got out on theroofs again and gave them the slip. They went tearing back along thewing toward the garden the way I'd come and I went toward the streetand got down. "

"Got down! _How_ did you get down?"

"Over those bay-window places, " said the Englishman briefly. "I tiedthat cord I had to one of the doddering old cornices to start with. It wasn't any trick at all. "

"Three stories, " Billy shot in. 

"And you'd no better luck, it seems?" Falconer inquired. 

"No, I came up from below and found the room empty--but disheveled, so I thought you were off with her sure. And just then the Captaincame in the panel places--just back from chasing you along the roof, I guess, for I'd been hearing the racket--and another fellow withhim and we had a scrimmage and I got away through the men's wing. "

"You're wet. "

"That was a bit of canal bathing--our Arab put off with the canoewhen I was needing it badly. I left him waiting here all right, however, and came here to find the motor gone. "

"Naturally--being paid in advance. "

"Only half paid. "

"Half pay was enough for him. I knew it would be. .. . The thing wasall rot in the first place. "

Billy was too bitter of soul to reply. He was remembering what heought to have done. He ought to have put that pistol to theCaptain's head and forced him through the palace inch by inch. .. . Hewondered if it would do any good to go back. His arm was rousingfrom its numbness, however, and raising a little racket all its own. 

"We might as well get out of this, " the Englishman advised, andBilly's reason acquiesced in spite of his rage. In silence they wentdown to the water's edge and embarked. The homeward course, fromcaution, was not past the palace but upstream through a remote andunknown region where they finally landed upon a bank and struckthrough unfamiliar and unfriendly looking byways toward the city. 

Their walk was silent. Fierce gloom enveloped Billy; furious chagrinbestrode him. Chump that he was to have jumped at such positiveconclusions! He ought to have stayed there. If only that second Turkhad not been coming up behind him! He could think now of a number ofbrilliant ways out of his difficulties. .. . Morosely he trudged onthrough the interminable streets, his chilly wetness like an outwardaspect of his gloom-soused mind. 

He could not bear to think of Arlee. He felt now that, warned byFalconer's approach from above, they had snatched her from her roomand hidden her away. He wondered if he deceived the Captain aboutthe motives for his presence. He wondered what in the world could bedone now--if all effort was to resolve itself into the futility ofan official search-party. He wondered where in all that bafflingprison Arlee was hidden. 

Upon that tormenting question he unlocked his lips. "Where is she?"he muttered worriedly. "That's the question--where is she?"

"In Alexandria. "

Plainly the Englishman's wrath had been smoldering. Billy turnedupon him fiercely. 

"In that palace, I tell you. "

"So you say. "

"And I say, too, " and Billy's exasperation strained its bonds, "thatif you don't believe she was there--if you think I got up thislittle party to while away an idle evening, why it was mostuncommonly good of you to come! But I can't think why you did it ifyou weren't convinced of the necessity. Certainly it was not fromlove of me. "

"Rather not. "

"That goes double. .. . But you couldn't deny the facts and you _did_come. Because we failed doesn't change the facts at all. She'sthere--only _where_? Had we better go straight to the consul now?"

"I think, " said Falconer coldly, "that we had better telegraph theEvershams to see if they have had any word from her before we stirup any hue and cry. "

"All right, " said Billy, and then he gave a short laugh. "Lord, weshall be quarreling like a couple of backyard dames next . .. Ofcourse, we're chagrined. It's poor satisfaction to reflect that wedid our best--and if you are still uncertain about Miss Beecher'sdanger there I can't blame you for seeing the folly of thebusiness. "

After this effort of pleasantness Billy subsided into the cab thatwas most welcomely discovered, rousing after some minutes of violentprogress to change their direction to the English doctor's. 

"Winged, " he said briefly, to Falconer's question. "Watchman chap asI was getting over the wall. Nothing wrong, I know, but it feelslike--fire, " he substituted. 

Falconer was instantly concerned, but his sympathy went against thegrain. Billy was too stirred for consolation. At the doctor's herefused to have Falconer enter with him. 

"No use in having both of us traced if there is to be any troubleabout this, " he said with decision. "Go ahead and telegraph theEvershams and get an answer as soon as possible. "

He had no earthly belief in that answer, and great, therefore, washis astonishment when, as he was walking the floor with his tinglingarm in the early morning hours, a telegram was sent to him whichFalconer had just received. His wire had caught the boat at Rhodawhere it tied up for the night and Mrs. Eversham had promptlyanswered. 

"We have heard from Miss Beecher, " she said, "and she may join uslater. Her address just Cook's, Alexandria. "

CHAPTER XV

ON THE TRAIL

Breakfasting, a little one-handedly, that Monday morning, Billy wasapproached by his companion of the night. The young Englishmanlooked fresh and fit and subtly triumphant. 

"Good news--what?" he said with a genial smile. 

"If authentic, " said the dogged Billy. 

"Of all the fanatic f----!" The sandy-haired young man checked hisexplosiveness in mid-air. He gave a glance at the bulge of bandagebeneath Billy's coat sleeve and dropped into a chair beside him. "How's the arm?" he inquired in a tone of restraint. 

"Fine, " said Billy without enthusiasm. 

"Glad of that. Afraid the canal bath wouldn't do it any good. Beastly old place, that. " Then the Englishman gave a sudden chuckle. "It's a regular old lark when you come to think of it!"

"Our lack of luck wasn't any great lark. " Savagely Bill speared hisbacon. 

"Luck? Why we--Oh, come now, my dear fellow, you can't pretend tomaintain those suspicions now! Of course the letter is authentic!"Falconer spoke between irritation and raillery. "That Turkishfellow could hardly fake that letter to them, could he? No, and wewill have to acknowledge ourselves actuated by a too-hastysuspicion--inevitable under the circumstance--and be grateful thatthe uncertainty is over. That's the only way to look at it. "

"We don't know that the Evershams have received a 'letter. ' It mightbe another fraudulent telegram that was sent them from Alexandria. "

"That is a bit too thick. You're a Holmes for suspicion!" Falconerlaughed. "I believe if Miss Beecher herself walked into this diningroom you would question if she were not a deceiving effigy!"

"I might question that anyway. " Billy's tone was dry. "And I daresayI am a fool. But that dancer's story is pretty straight if shedidn't know the names, and it fits in disasterously well with mylimousine story. "

"You're not the first man to be staggered by a coincidence, "Falconer told him. "And that woman's yarn was convincing enough, though all the time I was dubious, you remember. But now that theEvershams have heard, " and the young Englishman's deep note ofrelief showed how tormenting had been his uncertainty, "why now wehave no further right to put Miss Beecher's name into the affair. There is evidently some other girl concerned who may or may not beas guileless as she represented to the Baroff girl, and I shall laythat story before the ambassador and leave her rescue to authenticways. "

He laughed a little shamefacedly at the unauthentic ways of lastnight, and added, looking off across the room, "My sister and LadyClaire are going to Luxor to-night, and I expect to accompany them. If you should have any word about Miss Beecher's return here Ishould be glad if you would let me know. "

"If she is safe in Alexandria she'd never think of writing me, " saidBilly bluntly. "Our acquaintance is distinctly one-sided. "

"I quite understand. She was your countrywoman in a strange land andall that. "

"And all that, " Billy echoed. "What time is your train?"

"Six-thirty. "

"Then if I don't see you before that here's good luck and good-by. "

Billy rose and shook hands and the two young men parted after a fewmore words. 

"You have an _idée-fixe_--beware of it!" was Falconer's caution, serious beneath its air of banter, and on the other hand Billyperceived in the cautioner a latent uneasiness considered soirrational that he was doing his sensible best to disown it. 

So Falconer took himself off about the preparations for departureand Billy B. Hill was left to face his problem alone. Black worryplucked at him. He did not know what under the sun he could do next. Already that day he had done what he could. He had been out earlyand run down the one-eyed factotum loitering about the corner andunder cover of a transaction over a scarab he had made a number ofplans. 

He wanted the Captain followed every instant of the day. There wereenough active little Arabs greedy for _piastres_ to do that welland send back constant word to him. There was coming that day, hefelt, an interview between him and that Captain. Then he wanted theone-eyed man to insinuate himself into the palace. He must find outthings. He could use his connection with the eunuch who was uncle ofhis brother's wife. 

So much Billy had already arranged and now after a hasty breakfasthe was off to the consul, where he proceeded to unfold his storywhile the consul drew little circles on his blotter and looked outof the corners of his eyes at this astonishing young man. 

He made no comment when Billy paused. Perhaps he could think of noneadequate, or perhaps, after all, he had ceased to be amazed. Hemerely said slowly and thoughtfully, "Of course the dancer's storyis all you really have to go upon. You had better bring her here. "

"Nothing easier, " Billy declared, and thinking a cab as prompt as atelephone he drove briskly off. 

The hotel held a shock for him. Fritzi Baroff was gone. She had gonethe evening before, the clerk reported, consulting the register, andshe had paid her bill. As he had not been the one on duty then heknew nothing more about it. She had left no address. 

Ultimately the clerk who had been on duty was unearthed in thelabyrinths of the hotel's backgrounds, but he could supply verylittle further except the certainty that she had paid her bill inperson, and the vague belief that she had been accompanied. Thisbelief was companioned by a hazy notion that some one had called onher that evening. 

Even Billy's sense of humor was unstirred by the half-cynicalsympathy of the night-clerk's gaze; Billy didn't feel a laughanywhere within him. He was balked. The dancer had vanished with herstory, and that story was essential to the consul. Like a fool hemust return empty-handed with this yarn of her disappearance and theconsul would be justified in declaring that he had no actual proofto act upon. Which was precisely what the consul did, but heoffered, impressed with Billy's earnestness, "to take the matterup, " with the proper authorities. 

It seemed the best that could be done. Billy urged him to promptaction, and to himself he promised some prompt action of a totallyunofficial character. He knew now what he was going to do, or ratherhe thought he did, for the day still held its unsettling surprisesfor him, and as he set forth on business bent that afternoon hefound himself besieged by a skinny little boy in tattered bluerobes, who danced around him with a handful of dirty postcards. 

"Be off, " said Billy, in vigorous Arabic, and the little boyanswered proudly, in most excellent English, "I am a messenger, sir. I am the boy who held the canoe that night. Buy a postcard, sir?Only six piastres a dozen, six piastres, Views of Egypt, the Sphinx, the Nile, the----"

Impatiently Billy cut him short. 

"Never mind the bluff. No one is listening. What's your message?"

"The streets have ears, sir. Buy a postcard?. .. I have come from thepalace. I brought in the bread. I--_I_ got in under their nose whilethe big Mohammed was turned away without sight of his uncle, "bragged the little Imp. "I am a clever boy, I. No one else so cleverto find out things. The American man did well to come to me. "

"What the devil, then, did you find out?"

"Five piastres a dozen, then, only five. .. . Go on walking, sir, Iwill run alongside. Keep shaking your head at me--very good. .. . Ifind out where she are. "

"Where _who_ are?"

The little braggart had roused Billy's suspicions. He determined tobe wary. 

"The young girl with the very light hair. Mohammed send me to ask ofher. You know, sir, " the little fellow insisted, hopping up and downbeside him. "Only four a dozen--very cheap!" he screeched at him ina tone that must have carried for blocks. "I run in with the breadand take it to the kitchen where women are working. And I pretendmake love to one very pretty girl, tell her how I come marry herwhen I old enough and make enough, and hold up piece money to showhow rich I am. And the rest they think I just make game, but Iwhisper to her quick how much you pay her for news of that ladyupstairs with the fair hair, and I give her some money. It are notmuch, sir. I promise her to come back with more. "

"Go on, " demanded Billy, stopping short. "What did she tell you?"

"Walk along, sir, walk along. Just half a dozen then--very cheap, very beautiful!" cried the little rascal with deep enjoyment of hisrôle. Billy found his hands clenching frenziedly. The Imp proceeded, "She are much afraid, that girl, to say things, but I tell her howsafe it is an' I tell her you great big rich man who pay her well. Imake her honest promise to come back with money--and she very poorgirl. She whisper quick what she know, looking backward overshoulder like this. " Turning his face about after this dramaticillustration the Imp caught sight of Billy's countenance, and rolledthe rest of his narration into one speedy sentence. 

"She are gone, " he cried. 

"Gone?"

"Took away. .. . Take these cards, sir, stop and look at them. .. . Yes, she are took away. It happen very quick; early that morning afterthe other lady go in the night. Everyone much excited that night, great noise about, and no one know just what happen. But the Captaingive orders quick, and early the motor car is ready and the strangegirl go away. Old woman go, too. Nobody know where. "

"That would be Sunday morning, " Billy cried excitedly. "Are you surethere is no mistake? There were lights in that room on Sundaynight. "

"I tell what the girl tell. She are very honest girl, " the Impinsisted. "She say the other lady run away with her lover an'Captain afraid the new lady has a lover so he send her away quick. "

"But he didn't go himself?"

"No, he have something with his reg-reglement, " gulped the Imphastily, "that day and he stay and he there now--but now he sick. "

"What's the matter?"

"I don't know, sir, but I know the doctor comes because she say tome to come back and say I am boy from doctor with medicine, and if Idon't see her I must say I lost that medicine and go away, and comeagain as I can till I bring that money to her. She are very muchafraid, sir. "

Billy shuffled the postcards with absent hands and stared down atthem with unseeing eyes. She was gone--and the Captain was not withher! That much at least was gain. And the fellow was here sick fromhis shot hand, apparently. "I hope gangreen sets in, " he saidbetween his teeth. 

"You are pleased with me, sir?" the Imp was demanding. "You are gladof so much clever boy? And you give me that money now to give thatgirl? I make her most honest promise--and you see, sir, I am veryhonest boy, I tell you all I know and I ask nothing of price yet. Iknow that you are honest American man. "

At that Billy came out of his brown study and praised the tatteredlittle Imp with hearty earnestness. He saw no reason to doubt theboy's story. If he had been trying to invent something in order tomake capital out of him he would hardly have invented that story ofArlee's departure, for that put an immediate end to furtherremunerative investigations in the palace. Of course Billy might bemistaken, and the boy might be mistaken, but one had to leavesomething to probabilities. He was very generous with the boy, andthe droll little brown face was lined with grins. Most naïvely hebesought that the American would not reveal the extent of hisdonations to Mohammed, the one-eyed man, as the boys had promisedtheir employer a just one-half. 

It was the first laugh Billy had enjoyed in a long time. His spiritswere vastly lightened by the news that Arlee was out of the palacewhere the Captain was staying. Fritzi had optimistically informedhim that the Turk's courtship could be made most lengthy, but thathad been a sadly slender hope and the picture of Arlee playing sucha fearful game was simply horrible to him. So his relief at herdeparture was intense, although it complicated more and more thehope of speedy rescue. 

For where was she now? In Cairo? In some of the outlying villages?He felt swamped by the number of things were to be found outimmediately. He must find where that big gray motor went so early onSunday--surely there were people who had remarked it if they couldonly be found and induced to talk! And he must find where theCaptain had other homes or palaces where he would be likely to hidea girl. And he must find out where the Captain was every instant ofthe day and night. 

That was the most important thing of all. For the Captain unlessdelayed by extreme illness, or held back by a caution which Billyjudged was foreign to his nature, would not wait long before hejoined Arlee. He had evidently stayed behind for some review of histroops and also to be _au courant_ of whatever stir would resultfrom Fritzi Baroff's reappearance in the world, and be on hand todisarm whatever further suspicions would result from it. The lightsin the rose room that last night and the used look of the room, puzzled Billy, but he concluded that the Captain liked the room andthere was a good deal in that palace that had better be left to noimagination whatever. 

So back to the hotel went Billy to enter upon a period of waitingthat frayed his nerves to an utter frazzle. Inaction was horrible tohim, and now it was inevitable. He must wait for word from thatagile web of little spies which the one-eyed man was weaving aboutthe Captain's palace, and be ready to start whenever the word came. 

He slept with his clothes on that Monday night, but he slept heavilyfor he was tired and his arm was no longer painful. The tear ofwound he called a scratch was healing swiftly. 

Tuesday morning passed in the same maddening suspense. CaptainKerissen rode out that morning but only to the parade ground, wherehe took part in a review with his troops. It was noticed that hisright hand was bandaged, but the injury could not have been severefor his thumb was free from the bandage and he occasionally usedthat hand upon the reins. It was the bright eyes of the Imp thatwere sure of that. 

In the afternoon the Captain went again to the barracks and then tothe palace of one of the colonels in his regiment. Then he wenthome. 

Utterly disgusted with this waiting game Billy began to dress fordinner. All lathered for a shave he stood testing his razor on ahair when his unlocked door was violently opened and a pantinglittle figure darted across to him. It was the Imp. 

"Sir, he goes, he goes upon the minute, " he panted out. "He is inthe station. Quick!"

Like a streak of lathered lightening Billy went for his clothes. Acentipede could have been no more active. He jerked up hissuspenders; he jerked on a shirt; he jerked on a coat; he was wipinghis face as he darted through the halls and down the stairs. No lifthad speed enough for his descent. At the desk he flung some goldpieces at the clerk, cried something about being called out of thecity, and asked to have his room kept; then he was down the stepsand into the carriage that the Imp had magically summoned. 

The drive to the station was a series of escapes. Between jolts theImp gasped out the rest of the story. The Captain had ridden out inthe automobile. The Imp had given chase and so had the one-eyed man, also on guard, and by dint of running for dear life they had keptthe motor in sight until the crowded city streets were reached and aseries of delays enabled them to catch up with it. As soon as theysaw the motor stop before the station the boy had rushed for Billywhile the Arab remained to shadow the Captain and learn hisdestination. 

They themselves were at the station now, and Billy was still tyinghis cravat. Now they jumped down and pressed through the confusion, dodging dragomans, porters, drivers and hotel runners and making avigorous way past hurrying travelers and through bewilderedblockades of tourist parties. Suddenly over the bobbing heads theysaw the face they sought. A single eye glared significance uponthem. An uplifted hand beckoned furiously. 

"Assiout, " whispered the one-eyed man as Billy reached him. "Assiout. That one goes to Assiout on the night express. "

"My ticket? Got a ticket for me?"

Upturned palms bespoke the absence of ticket and the Arab's deepregret. "The price was much. I waited----"

Billy was off. There was no chance of his getting past that stolidguard without a ticket and he charged toward the seller's window, where a line of natives was forming for another train. 

"_Siut_!" he shouted over their heads, and scattering silver andsmiles and apologies he crowded past the motley line to the windowand fairly snatched the miles of green ticket from the Copt's quickfingers. 

He was the last man through the gate, and as he darted through theclicking of compartment doors was heard with the parting cries ofthe guards and the shouts of dragomans and porters. It was a train_de luxe_ where the sleeping sections had long been reserved, but toaccommodate the crowded travel ordinary compartment cars had beenadded at the last minute, and it was at one of these that Billygrasped, as the wheels were moving faster and faster. A gold piececaused a guard to unlock the first compartment door, although itsaid, "_Dames Seules_, " and "Ladies Only" in large letters. 

It was not a corridor train and the compartment was already filled, and as Billy wormed his way, not into the nearest corner, for thatwas not yielded to him, but into the modicum of space accordedbetween two stout and glaringly grudging matrons, he became awarefrom the hostile stares that his entrance had not been solitary. 

Between his legs the Imp was coiling. 

"I made a sneak with you, " the boy whispered. "I say I yourdragoman, sir. You will be glad. You need such bright boy inAssiout. "

Billy thought it highly probable that he would. But the ladiesneither needed nor desired him now, and ringed in by femininedisgust the two scorned intruders sat silent hour after hour whilethe train went rushing south through the increasing darkness of thenight. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE HIDDEN GIRL

Hour after hour the little boat held its steady course; hour afterhour the distant banks flowed past in changing scenes. Forward onthe narrow deck a girl sat in a lounge chair beneath a stripedawning and gazed out over the water. Squatting in the shade behindher an old woman stared up out of half-closed eyes with pupils askeen and bright under their puckered lids as the eyes of a watchinghawk. 

No disturbing consciousness of this incessant scrutiny muffled theserenity of the girl's appearance. Her hands lax in her lap, herblue eyes quietly intent upon the view, she lay back in her chairwith as much confident unconcern as she might have shown in an operabox. As a matter of incredulous fact she was feeling incredulouslyat ease. 

The terrible tension of those days in the palace was over--for thetime, at least. She did not understand this new move, she had beenbewildered ever since that early dawn, on Sunday, when the old womanand the eunuch had rushed her into the limousine, driven herswiftly through the empty streets to a landing place on the riverbeyond the bridge, and hurried her on board this little boat, an old_dahabiyeh_ reconstructed and given a new engine. 

The Captain had not appeared except for a brief interview in thevestibule where he had told her that the quarantine was prolongedand that he was going to try to escape out of Cairo where theauthorities would not be aware, and would first try to smuggle herout of the city, too. She must do exactly as the old woman indicatedand everything would be all right. 

And she had said, "How exciting!" and "What fun!" with lips thatsmiled pluckily in apparent acceptance of this flimsy excuse. 

She had connected this flight with the pandemonium she had heard inthe palace the night before, and she guessed that in some way herpresence there had become embarrassing for the Turk. Perhaps herfriends had traced her! Perhaps Robert Falconer--for after all itwould only be Robert Falconer's flouted devotion, she thought, thatwould interest itself in her. He mistrusted Kerissen; he wouldsuspect. 

So hope rose high in her, and hopeful, too, was this new glimpse offreedom. Somewhere, soon, she thought confidently, the chance toescape would come. The old woman could not watch forever. The bigeunuch was occupied with the boat. She could hear him now mutteringangrily to the little brown boy at the engines, while over the soundof his muttering rose the rhythmic, unconcerned chant of two otherboys marching up and down the narrow passageways of deck outside thelittle staterooms with a scrubbing brush under each left foot. "_Allah Illeh Lessah_, " they chanted monotonously, with a scrub ofthe brush at each emphasis. "_Allah Illeh Lessah_. "

"Allah help _me_, " thought Arlee Beecher. 

All day Sunday she had sat there in that chair watching thepyramids, at first so sharp-cut against the cloudless blue, waneimperceptibly and fade from sight, watching the golden MokattanHills and the pearly tinted Tura range slip softly from the horizonand all the old landmarks of the Egypt that she knew disappear andbe replaced by strange, new sights. Other pyramids showed likechild's toys upon the horizon; dense groves of palm trees appearedalong the banks, then the banks grew higher and higher and uponthem, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, showed a frieze-likeprocession of country folk driving camels or donkeys or bullocks. 

All night long they had steamed, a search-light on the bow, andArlee had lain in the little stateroom trying to sleep, butcontinually aware of the breathing of the old woman huddled outsideagainst her door, of the soft thudding of bare feet about the deck, of the pulse of the engine, beating, beating steadily, and of quick, muffled commands, of reversals, grinding of chains as sometreacherous shallow appeared ahead, then of the onward drive and thesteady rhythmic progress again. 

Where were they taking her? South to some haunt where she would befarther than ever from the civilization which had flowed sounheedingly past that old palace of darkened windows, south towardthe strange native cities and tiny villages and the grain fieldsand the deserts. But it was all better than that stifling palace andthe absence of the Captain gave her a sense of temporary security. 

Sunday had been hot and dry, but this Monday was cooler and thenorth wind, blowing freshly over the wide Nile, broke theamber-brown of the water into little waves of sparkling blue edgedwith silver ripples. The river was beautiful to her, even in hersorry plight, and to-day there were little clouds in the sky, furtive, scuddy little clouds with wind-teased edges, and they castsoft shadows over the river and over the tender green of the fieldsand the flat, mirroring water standing level in the trenches. In thefields brown men and women were working, and on the river banks thehalf-naked figures of _fellaheen_ were ceaselessly bending, ceaselessly straightening, as they dipped up the water from the_shadoufs_ to feed the thirsty land. Sometimes in the fields Arleesaw the red rusty bulk of the old engines, which the Mad Khedive hadtried to install among his people, to do away with thisback-breaking work, now lying useless and ignored. God forbid thatwe do otherwise than our fathers, said the people. 

Across the water came the monotonous chant of their labor song, andsometimes the creak and squeak of some inland well-sweep drawn roundand round by some patient camel. She felt herself to be in anotherworld, as she sat in that boat guarded by that old woman and aneunuch, a world strange and remote, yet desperately real as itenmeshed her in its secret motives, its incalculable forces. .. . 

As she watched, as the surface of her mind reflected these sightsand was caught in the maze of fresh impressions, the back of thatmind was forever at work on her own terrifying problem. She thoughtconfidently of escape, not able to plan it but waiting intently uponopportunity, upon the passing of a boat perhaps, or the moment oftying to some bank. 

There was in her a high spirit of undaunted pluck and an excitementin adventure, which made her heart quicken instead of flag at theodds before her. Only the thought of the desperate stakes and thereality of her hidden fears would often draw the color from hercheeks and stop an instant the beating of that hurrying heart. .. . Ifthose hawk-like eyes were watching then they might see the slimhands pressed feverishly together before warning self-control turnedthem lax again. 

So hour after hour the boat went on. On the left now the longmountain of Gebel-el-Tayr stretched golden and tawny like a lion ofstone basking in the sun. They passed Beni-Hassan, where a Nilesteamer lay staked to the shore, the passengers streaming gaily outand starting off on donkeys for an excursion to the tombs. If onlyit had been a little nearer, close enough to risk a desperatehail--! But the very sight of it was comforting. 

Toward dusk the engine failed. That night the boat lay by the bank, tied to long stakes which the boys had driven in. The big Nubian satat one end, cross-legged, a rifle on his knees. At the stern sat abrown boy. And so Arlee sank into the tired sleep that claimed her, and did not wake until the warm sunshine in her tiny window and theripple of water against the sides told her that another morning wasat hand and that they were on the move again. 

Stepping out on deck for breakfast, she found the boat was sailing. Two _lanteen_ sails were hoisted; a great one in the bow, a smallone in the stern, and the boat was running swiftly before the northwind that blew fresher than ever. But the course was variable now asthe river curved and as sand-banks threatened, and Arlee watched thewaters eagerly for a near-passing boat. But when they did draw closeto a _dahabiyeh_ upon whose deck she saw some white-clad loungers, the Nubian gave a low order to the old woman who rose and grippedArlee on the wrist and led her to the stateroom, sitting in silenceopposite her like a squat gargoyle, till the Nubian's voicepermitted them to emerge. 

And now they came to a city upon the right bank and the domes andminarets, the crowded building and high flat roofs pierced Arleewith a terrible sense of loneliness. And when her eyes caught thegleam of flags over a building and she saw her own stars and stripesblowing against this Egyptian sky, the tears could not be foughtback. With wet eyes and working mouth she stood there and looked andlooked. She thought she could endure no more and that her heart wasbreaking. 

Leaden discouragement was upon her as the boat made in toward theshore. It did not approach the city landings; it came in south neara shallow bank, and one of the brown boys jumped overboard andsplashed to the shore while the boat went on. But by and by itturned in its course and came beating back against the wind tillopposite it was the city; then it tacked in to that same place nearthe bank, and there the boy was waving at them. Skillfully the_dahabiyeh_ was brought about close to the high bank; and ropesthrown from bow and stern were quickly staked and made fast. 

A plank was put over the side and with the eunuch ahead and the oldwoman behind Arlee was taken ashore and mounted on one of the camelsthe boys had brought, with the old woman behind, gripping her aboutthe waist. The eunuch, on another camel, held the bridle rope, andled them at a terrific pace along the river road and then across thefields, thudding down the narrow, beaten paths, till the lush greenwas past and the dry desert lands began. 

Ahead of them a low, tawny mass of mountain seemed to shimmer andwaver in the hot sun, and as they drew nearer and nearer the masswas resolved into many masses broken into small foothills at thebase, through which the Nubian threaded a rapid, circuitous way thatled out on a rolling ground. A wide detour, still at the same urgentspeed which jolted the breath from the girl and made her cling tothe carpeted pummel of the saddle with both hands, led them at lastwithin sight of palm trees and mud walls. 

Arlee had no means of guessing whether these houses were theoutskirts of that city she had glimpsed or whether they were aseparate village. She only saw that they were being taken to thelargest house of the place, which stood a little apart from theothers and was half-surrounded by mud walls. Into this walled-incourt her camel was led and halted and jerkingly it accomplishedits collapsing descent, and Arlee found herself on her feet again, quite breathless, but very alert. 

Her fleet glance saw a number of black-robed figures about a stair;the next instant a mantle was flung over her head and thatcompelling hand upon her wrist urged her swiftly forward, and up aflight of steps. Within were more steps and then a door. Thrustingback the mantle she found herself in the sudden twilight of a small, low-ceiled chamber. There was no other door to it but the one sheheard bolted behind her; there was one window completely coveredwith brown _mashrubiyeh_. She flew to it; it looked out over widesands, with a glimpse, toward the right, of a mud wall and pigeonhouses. The room was musty and dusty and dirty; but the rugs in itwere beautiful, and a divan was filled with pillows and hung withembroidered cotton hangings. Other pillows were on the floor aboutthe walls. A green silk banner embroidered in gold hung upon one ofthose walls and a laquered table stood by the divan. 

And as Arlee Beecher stood there in that strange, stifling room, themutterings of foreign voices, the squeals of the camels, the bray ofa donkey coming through that screened window, a sudden rage cameover her which was too hot to bear. Her heart burned; her handsclenched; she could have beaten upon those walls with her helplessfists and screamed at the top of her unavailing lungs. It was a furyof despair that seized her, a fury that she fought back with everybreath of sanity within her. Then suddenly the air was black. Theroom seemed to swim before her eyes and the ground came swayingdizzily up to meet her, and receive her spent unconsciousness. 

 * * * * *

Water had been brought; she woke to find herself upon the couch, theold woman woodenly sopping her head and hands. She smiled weaklyinto that strange dark face; it was as unchanged as if it had beencarved from bronze. The business of reviving finished, the old womanleft her a handkerchief damp with a keen scent and went about thework of unpacking a hamper that she brought in. 

Dully, Arlee saw the preparations for a meal advancing. She shookher head at it; a cup of tea was all that she could touch. Alethargy had seized her; even the anger of revolt was gone. Sheclosed her eyes languidly, grateful when the old woman went away, grateful when the darkness deepened. When it was quite night, shethought, she would break open the wooden screen and fling herselfthrough the wood into the sands. She lay there passively waiting;her heavy eyes closed, and she slept. 

CHAPTER XVII

AT BAY

Voices sounded below; footsteps hurried; a door slammed. Then feetupon the stairs, and a hand at the door. Arlee struggled to her feetin sudden terror; the candle was out and the room was in darkness. Outside a gale was blowing. The door opened, but the figure whichhurried in was not the one her fright anticipated. 

It was the old woman again, bustling with haste. She brought morecandles for the table, and then a tray with a bottle and glasses anddishes covered with napkins. Then she bestowed her attention toArlee, bringing her a mirror and a comb from the hamper she had leftupon the floor, and a cloth thick with powder. Then Arlee was sure. 

She stood rigid a moment, listening to that low buzz of voices frombelow, then desperately she shook out her tangled hair and combed itback from her hot face. It was still damp from the water that hadbeen dashed upon her, and as she knotted it swiftly, soft strands ofit broke away and hung in wet, childish tendrils. She brushed somepowder on her face; she bit her bloodless lips, and stared into theglass, to see a wan and big-eyed girl staring back affrighted. 

Then the door opened, and desperately calling on her courage, Arleeheard the Captain speaking her name and saw his smiling faceadvancing through the shadows. 

"A thousand greetings, Mademoiselle. Ah, I am glad to see you. " Astrained emotion quivered through the false assurance of his tone. 

She stood very straight and tense before him, a childishly smallfigure there in the dusk, the blowing candles making strange play oflight and shadow over her. Steadily she answered, "And I am veryglad to see you, Captain Kerissen. "

"And I am glad that you are glad. " But his ear had caught thehardness of her voice, for answering irony was in his. Some devil ofdelay and disappointment seemed to enter into him, for his face, asshe saw it now in his advancing, struck fright into her. The fourfingers of his right hand were wrapped in a bandage and he extendedhis left to her, murmuring an apology. "A slight accident, you see. "

"There is so much I do not see that I do not feel like shakinghands, " gave back Arlee. "Captain Kerissen, this is too strange asituation to be maintained. You must end it. "

"It is a very delightful situation, " he returned blandly, lookingabout with dancing eyes. "To be again your host, even in so poor aplace as this old house of the Sheik--and the place has itspossibilities, Mademoiselle. It is romantic. Your window overlooksthat desert you were so anxious to see. The sunsets----"

"Captain Kerissen, I must say that you use a very strange way tokeep me your guest!"

"I might respond that any way was justifiable so that it kept you aguest. .. . But you wrong me. Did I not bring you safely out from thatquarantine, as you besought me?" His smile was mockery itself. 

"But you did not bring me to my friends. I do not like your sendingme here, without explanation, " she returned, trying to be very wiseand speak quietly and not rouse him to anger. "We passed a citywhere the American flags were flying over a house, and I could havegone there. "

"I am sorry you do not care for my hospitality. I did not know thatI was displeasing to you. "

"It is those ways that are displeasing to me. I----"

"Then you shall change them, " he laughed. "That will give mepleasure. .. . But I did not come in the dead of this night, half sickand fatigued, to find such welcome. Come, you must smile a littleand sit down at the table with me. Here are delicacies I sent fromCairo. "

Smilingly he seated himself at the divan by the table and lifted thecovers from the plates, nodded satisfaction at the food, and beganto help himself, while she stood there, motionless. 

Without looking up, "Will you not help me to the Apollinaris, Mademoiselle?" he suggested. "My right hand, you see, is not as itshould be. There is a bottle opener on the tray. "

Feeling a fool, but unwilling to provoke a crisis, Arlee tugged atthe cork and poured him a glass of the sparkling water and then aglass for herself, which she thirstily drank. "How did you hurt yourhand?" it occurred to her to say. 

"By playing with fire--the single pastime of entertainment!" Hespoke gaily, but his lips twitched. "But will you not sit down andjoin me? This caviar I recommend. "

"I do not care to eat. "

"No?" He finished his sandwich and drained his glass, talkingbanteringly the while to her. She did not answer. Something told herthat the time of explanation between them was coming fast; he hadceased to play with his good fortune, ceased to feel he could affordto wait and look and fancy. He had come urgent, in the dead ofnight. His mood was teasing, mocking, but imperative. .. . Slowly shemoved toward the unlatched door. 

Alertly he was before her; the bolts shot home. "Ah, pardon, but Iwas negligent! We might be interrupted--and also, " he laughed, as ifdeprecatingly, "I have foolish fears that you are so dream-like thatyou will vanish like a dream without those earthly bars. Locks arefor treasures. .. . And now where is that welcome for me? I came inthat door on fire to see you, and your eyes froze me. I came tolove--you made me mock. Shall we begin again? Will you be nice now, little one, be kind and sweet----"

"Captain Kerissen, you make it impossible for me to like you at all!Why do you treat me like this? You shut me in this house like aprisoner. If you--if you care for me at all, " stammered Arlee, "youwould not treat me so!"

"And how, then, would I treat you?" he inquired slowly. 

"You would--you would take me to my own people and give me back myindependence, my dignity. Then there would be honor in your--yourcourtship. I----"

"Would you come back to me?"

"I----"

The lie choked her. And the passion of anger which had flared in herthat afternoon sprang up in flame again; the candlelight showed thehot blood in her cheeks. "I shall not come to you if you keep mehere!" she gave back fearlessly. 

"But here I can come to you. And the preliminaries are alwaysstupid--I have no desire to reënact them. I am well content withwhere we have arrived. Be content, also. "

She stared back at his smiling face. And all she thought was, "ShallI defy him now, or try to hold him off a little longer?" She hadceased to feel afraid; her blood was on fire; it was battle nowbetween them; perhaps a battle of the wits a little longer, then----

"In America men do not make love by force, " she flung at him. "Youare mad, Captain Kerissen! You will be sorry if you go on like this. If you wish to marry me you must give me the freedom of choice. Youmust give me time. I must have a minister of my own faith. Do youthink I will submit to this? You make me hate you!"

"Hate is often love with a mask, " he laughed, his eyes fixed on thespirited, flushed face, the flashing eyes, the defiant mouth. "Anddo not quote your America to me. You are done with America. "

"You say that? You forget who I am! My brother--I tell you mybrother will----"

"Do I not know the risks?" His eyes narrowed. "But your brother willask in vain. He will not see you--until we reappear as husband andwife. I will take you to the Continent, then I will give youeverything a woman wants, luxury and jewels--the pearls of myancestors I will hang on you. These have no woman of mine worn. Youshall be my adored, my dearest---- Oh, you must not turn from me, " hepleaded, his voice sinking softer and softer as he stole closer toher. "You know that I am mad for you. You have bewitched me, littleRose, you have made me strong and weak in a breath. I am clay inyour hands. Be sweet, be kind, be wife to me----" His hot handgripped her arm. He bent over her, and she sprang back, her handsflung out before her. 

"Oh, wait!" she cried beseechingly. "Wait--please wait. "

"Wait? I have waited too long!" His voice was a snarl now. The maskof indolent mockery was gone; his face was stamped with cruelty andgreed. "_Nom d'un nom_, I am through with this waiting!"

She sprang back before his approach, then whirled about to face him, trying to beat him back with words, with reason, with appeal. Insanely he laughed and clutched at her as she flew past hisoutstretched arms; in the corner he pinioned her against the walland gripped her to him. 

Terror gave her the strength of two--and his hand was bandaged. Desperately she attacked it, and as his laughter changed to curses, she wrenched free once more and flew across the room. With bothhands she seized the candles and flung them into the pillowed divan;holding the last two to the draperies. Like magic the little flameszigzagged up the cotton hangings. 

He threw himself upon the fire, dragging down the hangings, beatingon the cushions, but the corner was ablaze. Overhead the flamesseized cracklingly on the dry wood and darted little red tonguesover the dry surface and a scarlet snake ran out over the carvedceiling. 

In utter wildness Arlee had carried the last candle to the openhamper and the garments there caught instant fire. She was obliviousof the sparks falling about her, oblivious of the increasing peril. When Kerissen ran to the door, tearing open the bolts, furiouslycursing her, she gave him back the ghost of his earlier mockinglaughter and threatened him with a blazing cloth as he turned todrag her from the room. 

But the fire reached her fingers and she flung the cloth at him, tohave him trample it under foot as he sprang toward her again. 

"Would you be burned--be marred?" he shouted at her. "You are mad, you----"

Behind him the door opened. Behind him a tall figure appearedthrough the thickening smoke. She saw a face she knew; a voice sheknew cried out her name:

"Arlee!"

"Oh, here!" she cried and flung herself toward him. 

"Not unless you want another?" said Billy B. Hill to the Captain, turning his gun suggestively. 

One tense instant the three faced each other in that flaming room, then with a sound of impotent fury, Kerissen turned and darted outthe door. But as Billy turned to follow, his hand on Arlee's, therewas a sound of sliding bolts. 

"Burn, burn, then! Burn together!" called a hoarse voice through thewood. 

Hill flung himself against the door; it was unyielding. On the otherside the taunts continued. He ran to the window, catching up thelittle table as he ran, and rained a fury of blows with the tableagainst the close-carved screen. The wood splintered and broke; hewrenched a side away, and dropping his gun in his pocket he crashedthrough the hole and hung on the outside by his hands. 

"Climb out on my shoulders, " he commanded, and Arlee climbed--how, she never knew. For one instant she had an impression of hanging outover an abyss with fire crackling in her face; the next instant thesoles of her feet were smarting and her eyes still seemed to seestars. 

There was a run, stumbling, with Billy's hand sustaining her, andthen she was on a camel, clutching the saddle as the beast roseswiftly in response to urgent whacks, and beside her Billy was onanother. Some one on foot goaded the beasts into a startled run, andbehind them yells and screeches were growing louder and louder. 

Over her lurching shoulder she had one last glimpse of a burningbuilding and saw flames pouring from the roof, and the room whereshe had been an open furnace, and then she turned her face towardthe dark ahead. 

"Hang tight, " Billy was calling to her, and she saw him lean overand lash both camels into furious speed. "Some one is riding after, "and then he turned and shot his gun warningly into the air. 

The yells behind them stopped. But after some moments they heard acamel snarl, and knew that some one was still back there in thedarkness, hanging on their trail. So they rode hard ahead, into theenveloping night, over the rolling dunes, with the wind leaping andtearing and hurling the sand in their faces, as if the very elementswere fighting against them. 

It was a strange chase and a hot one, pounding on and on, rackedwith the wild, lurching flight, deeper and deeper into theyellow-gray night that welcomed them with more strident blasts andmore stinging particles of sand. 

"It's a storm, " Billy shouted at her, raising his voice above thewind. "It's been blowing up this way for an hour now--they won'tfollow long in the face of it. Can you hang on a little longer?"

"Forever, " she cried back, gripping the pommel tight and bending herhead before the whirling particles. There was sand in her hair, sandon her lashes and in her eyes, sand on her face and down her neck, and sand in her mouth when she wet her lips, but she heard herselflaughing in the night. 

"By and by we'll get off, " he called back, and by and by when thehot, stifling, stinging, choking, whirling gale was too blinding tobe borne, he checked the camels in one of the hollows of the desertdunes from which the wind was skimming ammunition for its pepperyassaults, and the beasts knelt with a haste that spoke of gladness. 

"It's the backbone of it now; cover your head and lie down, " Billycommanded, and Arlee covered it with what he thrust into herhands--his overcoat, she found--and tucked herself down against himas he crouched beside the camels. 

"I should think--it was--the backbone, " she gasped, unheard, intoher muffling coat. For the wind howled now like a rampaging demon;it tore at them in hot anger; it dragged at the coat about her head, and when her clutch resisted, it flung the sand over and over hertill she lay half buried and choking. And then, very slowly andsulkily, it retreated, blowing fainter and fainter, but slippingback for a last spiteful gust whenever she thought it finally gone, but at last her head came out from its burrow, and she begancautiously to wipe the sand crust off her face and lashes. 

"In your eyes?" said a sympathetic voice. 

In the darkness beside her Billy Hill was sitting up, digging at hiscountenance. 

"Not now--I've cried--that all gone, " she panted back. 

He chuckled. "I'll try it--swearing's no use. "

She sat up suddenly. "Are they coming?"

"Not a bit. No use, if they did. You're safe now. "

"Oh, my _soul_!" She drew a long, long breath. "I can't believeit. " Then she whirled about on him. "How--why--why is it _you_?"

He looked suddenly embarrassed, but the darkness hid it from her. Hebecame oddly intent on brushing his clothes. "Oh, I guessed, " hesaid in a casual tone. 

"You guessed? Don't they know? What did they think? Oh, where dideveryone think I was?"

He told her, dwelling upon the misleading details; the hasty messageof farewell from the station, the directions about luggage, themoney to pay the hotel bill. "You see, his wits and luck were justplaying together, " he said. 

"Then the Evershams _are_ up the Nile?"

"Of course. They never dreamed----"

"They wouldn't. " Arlee was silent. She wondered confusedly--shewanted to ask a question--she wanted to ask two questions. 

"But--but--no one else----?" she stammered. 

There was a particularly large lump of sand in Billy B. Hill'sthroat just then; he cleared it heavily. "Oh, yes, some one elseguessed, too, " he said then. "That English friend of yours, RobertFalconer, he and I had a regular old shooting party in the palacelast Sunday evening. If you'd been there then he would certainlyhave had you out. "

"So he knows. " She said it a little faintly, Billy thought, as ifshe was disappointed and troubled. She would know, of course, byintuition, how the Englishman would think about a scrape of thatsort. 

"But he doesn't know now, " he said eagerly. "He is sure you are allright in Alexandria, because the Evershams received another faketelegram from you from Alexandria. The Captain was stalling themalong, apparently, keeping everything under cover as long aspossible. And when Falconer heard about that, his suspicions wereover. He thought we'd made fools of ourselves in going to thepalace. "

She was silent. Looking at her, after a while, Billy saw her staringout obliviously into the darkness; her hair was hanging all abouther. 

His glance seemed to recall her thoughts. She started and thenbrushed back her hair; the sand fell from it and she took hold ofone soft strand. "Look out, I'm going to shake this!" she warned, and he half shut his eyes and underneath the lids he saw her shakingher head as vigorously as a little terrier after a bath. 

"Isn't it awful?" she appealed. 

"I could scratch a match on my face, " he confirmed. 

"But tell me, " she began again, "how did you know I was in thatpalace? And I must tell you how I happened to go and how I was keptthere. "

"You were told there was a quarantine, weren't you?" Billy supplied, as she hesitated. 

Her astonishment found quick speech. "Why, how did you know _that_?"

"The Baroff told me--that Viennese girl who came into your room. "

"Why, you know _everything_! How did you?"

"Oh, I carried her over a wall, thinking it was you. "

"But how could you think it was _I_? And what were you doing at thewall? I don't see how----"

"Oh, one of the palace maids gave me a message in Arabic and Ithought it was from you. You see, I suspected--I had seen you driveoff in that motor----"

"But how could the maid bring you a message? Where were you? Wheredid she see you?"

"I was painting out in front of the palace. " Billy sounded more andmore casual. 

"You said you were an engineer, " said Arlee. His heart jumped. Atleast she had remembered that!

"So I am--the painting was just a joke. "

"And you happened there, " she began, wondering, and after he hadopened his mouth to correct her, he closed it silently again. Gratitude was an unwieldy bond. He did not want to burden her withobligation. And he suspected, with a rankling sort of pang, that hewas not the rescuer she had expected. So he made as light aspossible of his entrance into the affair, telling her nothing at allof his first uneasiness and his interview with the one-eyed manwhich had confirmed his suspicions against the Captain's character, and the masquerade he had adopted so he could hang about the palace. Instead he let her think him there by chance; he ascribed thedelivery of Fritzi's message to sheer miracle, and his presenceunder the walls that night to wanton adventure, with only ahalf-thought that she was involved. 

Stoutly he dwelt upon Falconer's part in the attack the next night, and upon the entire reasonableness of his abandonment of the trail. He put it down to his own mulishness that he had hung on and hadlearned through the little boy of her removal from the palace. 

He interrupted himself then with questions, and she told him of herstrange trip down the Nile in the _dahabiyeh_, under guard of theold woman and the Nubian. "But how did you come?" she demanded. 

"Well, I just swung on to the same train he was in, " said Billy. "And I got out at Assiout because he'd bought a ticket there, but Icouldn't see a thing of him in the darkness and confusion of thestation, and I had a horrid feeling that he'd gone somewhere else, the Lord knew where, to you. But the Imp--that's the little Arab boywho adopted me and my cause--went racing up and down, and he got aglimpse of the Captain tearing off on a horse and behind him a manloping along with a bundle on a donkey, and the Imp raced behind himand yelled he'd dropped something. The man went back to look, andthe Imp ran alongside him, asking him for work as a donkey boy. Thefellow shook him off, but that had delayed him, and though we lostthe horseman we kept the donkey-man in sight and followed him on tothe village. I reconnoitered while the Imp stole these twocamels--jolly good ones they are--and while I was trying to make outwhere you were, for there were lights in several windows, I suddenlyheard your voice and then I saw a glare of fire. Well, my revolverwas a passport. .. . Now, how about that fire? What started it?"

"I did; he--he was trying to make love to me, " she answeredbreathlessly, "and I just got to the candles. "

"Are you burned at all? Truthfully now? I never stopped to ask. "

"If I am, I don't know it, " she laughed tremulously. Then, "Isn'tthis _crazy_!" she burst forth with. 

"It's--it's off the beaten track, " Billy B. Hill admitted. "It's ajump back into the Middle Ages. " His note of laughter joined hers asthey sat staring owlishly at each other through the dark of theafter-storm. 

A little longer they talked, their questions and answers flittingback and forth over those six strange days; then, as the excitementwaned, Billy heard a sleepy little sigh and saw a small handcovering a yawn. The girl's slender shoulders were wilting withincalculable fatigue. 

Instantly he commanded sleep, and obediently she curled down intothe little nest he prepared, pillowing her head upon his coat, andalmost instantly he heard her rhythmic breathing, slow and unhurriedas a little child. His heart swelled with a feeling for which he hadno name, as he sat there, his back against a camel, staring out intothe night, an unknown feeling in which joy was very deep and triumphwas merged into a holy thankfulness. 

CHAPTER XVIII

DESERT MAGIC

He had meant but forty winks, but it had been dark when his eyesclosed and he opened them to the unreal half-lights of early dawn. The sky was pearl; the sands were fawn-colored; the crest of a lowhill to the east shone as if it were living gold, and the nextinstant it seemed as if a fire were kindled upon it. It was the sunsurging up into the heavens, and great waves of color, like a sea offlame, mounted higher and higher with it. 

Impulsively Billy bent over the little figure sleeping so soundly athis side, speaking her name gently. And Arlee, waking with a startand a catch of her breath that went to his heart, opened her eyes ona wild splendor of morning that seemed the outer aspect of theradiant joy within her. 

They looked and looked while the east flamed like a burning Rome, and then the glow softened and paled and dissolved in mysteries andmiracles of color, in tender rose and exquisite shell pinks, inamethysts and violets and limpid, delicate, fair greens. All aboutthem the sands were turning to gold, and the rim of the distanthorizon grew clearer and clearer against the brightening blue of thesky, like a great circling tawny sea lapping on every side the archof the heavens. 

As they looked their hearts stirred and quickened with thatincommunicable thrill of the desert, and their eyes turned andsought each other in silence. The gold of the sun was on Arlee'shanging hair and the morning-blue of the sky in her eyes; her facewas flushed from sleep and a tiny tendril still clung to the pinkcheek on which she had been sleeping. Somehow that inconsequentsmall tendril roused in Billy a thrill of absurd tenderness anddelight. .. . She was so very small and childish, sitting there in theLibyan desert with him, looking up at him with such adorablesimplicity. .. . In her eyes he seemed to see something of the wonderand the joy in his. It was a moment of magic. It brought a lump intohis throat. .. . He wanted to bend over her reverently, to lift astrand of that shining hair to his lips, to touch the sandy littlehands. .. . 

Somehow he managed not to. The moment of longing and of glamorpassed. 

"It's exactly as if we'd been shipwrecked!" said Arlee, lookingabout with an air of childish delight. 

"On a very large island, " he smiled back, and felt a furtive painmingling with his joy. He was just her rescuer to her, of course;she accepted him simply as a heaven-dropped deliverer; her thoughtshad not been going out to him in those long days as his had gone toher. .. . Decisively he jumped to his feet and said breakfast. Wherewas it? What was to be done?

Directions were vague. They had come south on the edge of thedesert, and the Nile lay somewhere to the east of them, and to theeast, therefore lay breakfast and trains and telegraph lines and allthe outposts of civilization. 

To the east they rode then, straight toward the tinted dawn, and asthey went they laughed out at each other on their strange mountslike two children on a holiday. Their spirits lifted with the beautyof the morning, and with that strange primitive exhilaration of thedesert, that wild joy in vast, lonely reaches, in far horizons andillimitable space. The air intoxicated them; the leaping light andthe free winds fired them, and with laughing shouts and challengesthey urged their camels forward in a wild race that sent the deserthares scattering to right and left. Like runaways they tore over thelevel wastes and through the rolling dunes, and at last, spent andbreathless, they pulled back into a walk their excited beasts thatsquealed and tossed their tasseled heads. 

Their eyes met in a gaiety of the spirit that no words couldexpress. When Arlee spoke she merely cried out, "I've read the camelhad four paces, but mine has forty-four, " and Billy gave back, "Andforty-three are sudden death!" and their ringing laughter made aworried little jackal draw back his cautious nose into his rockylair. 

They were in broken ground now, more and more rocky, leading throughthe low hills ahead of them, and great clumps of grayish _mit minan_and bright green hyssop dotted the amber of the sands. Here andthere the fork-like helga showed its purple blossom, and sometimesa scarlet ice-plant gleamed at them from a rocky crack. Across theirpath two great butterflies strayed, as gold and jeweled as the day. High overhead, black against the stainless blue, hung a far hawk. 

At last the way entered a narrow defile among the rocky hills, and asharp curve led them finally out upon the other side, looking downinto green fields, as straight and trim as a checker board in theirvarying tints, and off over the far Nile. The fertile lands werewide here, and fed with broad canals that offered the surprise ofboats' white wings between the fields of grain. Not far ahead, before the desert sands reached that magic green rose a group ofpalms, and near them some mud houses and a pigeon tower. 

"Breakfast, " said Billy triumphantly, and gaily they rode down onthe sleeping village. 

 * * * * *

Back toward the Libyan hills runs the canal El-Souhagich, and as itcurves to the north a reach of sand sweeps down from the higherground, interrupting the succession of green fields. Several jaggedrocks have tumbled from the limestone plateaus above and increasedthe grateful bit of shade which the half dozen picturesque palms donot sufficiently bestow. 

Here the runaways breakfasted upon the roast pigeon, dates andtangerines they had bought from the curious villagers, and hereBilly, his back against a rock, was smoking a meditative cigar overthe situation. Beside him, tied to a palm, knelt the camels, andbefore him, nibbling a last tangerine, Arlee was sitting. 

"We have to rest the beasts a bit. " This from Billy, suggestive ofa conscience pricking at this holiday delay. "And then----"

"Then--?" echoed Arlee cheerfully. 

"Then, what in the world am I going to do with you?"

"With me?"

"Yes. It's simple enough, I suppose, getting back to the city---butif you don't want your friends to know----"

The quick shadow in her eyes distressed him. "I _don't_, " she criedsharply. "At first--I might have made a lark out of it--butafterwards. .. . No, I don't want to go explaining and explainingforever and ever. Can't I just reappear?"

"You can reappear from Alexandria, " he said. "He, himself, " his tonechanged as he reluctantly brought Kerissen into the beauty of thatmorning, "has arranged it very neatly for you. You can just havebeen camping in the desert--and true enough that is!--with thosefriends of yours whom the Evershams don't know. Only yourreappearance has to be--managed a bit. "

Very carefully she tore the tangerine skin into very little bits, her head bent over it. Then she flung the fragments far from herwith a gesture of rebellion. "I hate fibs, " she said explosively. And then, "But I hate explanations more!" She hesitated, stealing aquick glance under her lashes at his frowning face. 

"And some people, " she stammered, "might--mightnot--understand--they would feel that--some people would----"

"Some people are great fools, undoubtedly, " Billy promptly agreed. But back of the some people he saw Falconer in her mind, andFalconer's instinctive distaste of all strangeness and sensation. 

"I have a perfect right to keep it from--them, " she went onargumentatively, and then with an upward glance, "Haven't I?"

"Good Lord, yes! It was your adventure; it doesn't concern anothersoul in this wide world. "

"You know, " said Arlee, locking and unlocking her fingers, "youknow, some people wouldn't take it all for granted the way--youdo. .. . And it was very horrid. "

"It's over, " said he crisply, "except I'd like to pound him to ajelly. "

"I couldn't bear to _speak_ of him before, " said the girl, "but nowit seems all far away and nightmarish. .. . And I'd like to tell youhow it was--a little. "

"You needn't. "

"I know I needn't. " Arlee's tone was suddenly proud. Then she meltedagain. "But I want you to know. He was--he was trying to make mecare for him. .. . He wasn't really as dreadful as you might thinkhim, only just insane--about me--and utterly unscrupulous. But hedid want me to like him and so, when I found out, when Fritzi toldme I was in a trap, I tried to play his game. I _flirted_ one day inthe garden, at lunch, and made him think---- You see, I _had_ to gaintime and try to get word to people. But I hated him so I----" Shebroke off, the pupils of her fixed eyes big and black with thememory. 

"You know I can't--I can't think of you--alone there, " came huskilyfrom the young man. 

"He never _dared_ to touch me--really--till last night, " she saidfiercely. "He tried, but I--I held him off. Only he talked tome--Oh, how he talked. Like a river of words. .. . I hate all thosewords. .. . If ever again a man asks me to marry him I don't ever wanthim to _talk_ about it. I want him just to say two words, _Willyou?_" Her laugh caught quiveringly in her throat. 

It taxed all the young man's control to keep his tongue off theecho. 

"He just raved, " she went on after a pause, "and I had tolisten--but last night he was horrible. I could never have got tothe candles if his hand hadn't been hurt. "

"I wish I'd shot his hand off, " said Billy bitterly. 

"Oh! Was it you who----?"

"When we were in the palace. " He told her again about the raid andshe nodded delightedly over it. 

"It's so wonderful for you to have done all this, " she said withsudden shyness. "You had just met me----"

The things on Billy's tongue wouldn't do at all. None of them. Whathe did say was absurdly stiff and constrained. "You were mycountrywoman--and alone. "

"So are the Evershams, " said Arlee, with sudden bubbling laughter, and then as suddenly checked herself. Her fleet glance at him washalf-scared. "You--you are very good to your countrywomen indistress, " she got out stammeringly. 

Billy contemplated his cigar. It was safer. 

Presently she reverted to the topic of discovery. "But about Mr. Falconer? Are you sure his suspicions are over now?"

"Perfectly sure. Or they will be the moment he sees you. You'll haveto laugh at him if he mentions them, of course;" Billy spoke withheartiness. 

"He'd hate it, " the girl said musingly. "The talk and all--aboutme--Oh, after being such a fool _I'd never be the same to them_!"she broke out passionately. 

The furtive pain was bolder now; Billy felt it worming deeper anddeeper into his sorry consciousness. It mattered so much to her whatFalconer thought--so much. .. . 

"But I'll do anything you say, " she said meekly, looking up at herrescuer with those big eyes whose blueness always startled him likeunsuspected lakes. He saw then that she meant to be very grateful tohim. Somehow that deepened the pang. He didn't want that kind ofbond. .. . 

"Then you will bury even the memory of this time and never whisper aword of it, " he told her stoutly. "The talk and explanation will beover five minutes after your return. The thing is, to manage thatreturn. Now the Evershams left Friday and this is Wednesday--sixdays. "

"Only six days, " she echoed with a ghost of a sigh. 

"Now let me see where were we on the sixth day? When I was on theNile?" He knitted his brows over it. "Why, the steamer leavesAssiout at noon of the fifth day--that was yesterday. "

"Oh! I must have passed them on the Nile, " cried Arlee. 

"Maragha is where they stopped last night. To-day they'll besteaming along steadily and stop to-night at Desneh. To-morrow nightthey'll be at Luxor. "

"And they stay three days at Luxor?"

"The steamer does, I believe. I left the steamer there and went tothe hotel for a while and spent another while at Thebes with afriend of mine. "

"The excavator!" cried Arlee quickly. 

"Then you do remember, " said Billy with a direct look, "that danceand----"

"And our talk, " she finished gaily. "And your being Phi Beta Kappa. Oh, I was properly impressed! And I didn't know then that you were aregular Sherlock Holmes as well. "

"I didn't know it either, " said Billy grinning. But he knew that shedidn't know now how much of a Sherlock Holmes he had managed to befor her. 

"That seems ages ago, " she declared, "and in an altogether differentworld. The only real world seems to be this desert----"

"Bedouin breakfast and camel races, " finished Billy. "And it's somuch of a lark for me that I can't keep my mind on the problem ofthe future. But I have to get you to Luxor by to-morrow night----"

"And I can't arrive in the rags and tatters of a white silk callinggown, " mentioned Arlee cheerfully, surveying her disreputable andmost delightful disarray. "I must have trunks and a respectableair--and a chaperon, I suppose. "

"And I won't do at that. But if you get to Luxor you'll be allright. You can go to the hotel and to-morrow night the Evershams'boat will get in about seven in the evening. "

"Did you say my trunks were sent to Cook's?"

He repeated the story of the telegram to the Evershams. Over thearrival of the boy with money for her hotel bill she wrinkled herbrows in perplexity. "I suppose he thought there would be lessdiscussion about me if my bills were paid, " she said finally. "ButI'd like to get that money back to him. "

"I'll see he gets it--with interest, " responded Billy. 

"And you----?" She looked up at him with a startled, vivid blushthat stained her soft skin from throat to brow. "You must have beento a great deal of expense----"

"Not a bit. Please don't----"

"But I must. When I get to a bank. I still have my letter of creditwith me, " she said thankfully, "but it didn't do me any good in thatwretched palace. It was just paper to them. I showed it to the girlonce and tried to make her understand. "

"The first station we find we'd better wire for your trunks to besent by express to Cook's at Luxor--or to the Grand Hotel. And thenyou can take the train straight to Luxor and buy some clothesthere. "

"But the train--I can't travel in this! And there would be people onit who would talk----"

"Had we better make it to Assiout then?" said Billy doubtfully. "Once in the city, of course, you'd be safe----"

"How far is Assiout from Luxor? Where are we now?"

"We're Alice in Wonderland about that. Somewhere about twenty-fiveor thirty miles south of Assiout, I should say. It must benearly a hundred and twenty, as the crow flies, from Assiout toThebes--that's right across from Luxor, you know. "

Arlee was silent a moment. She lifted a handful of shining sands andlet them run down from her fingers in fine dust. "It's such a pity, "she mused, "when we've such a good start----"

Billy stared. 

"And I never rode a camel, " she went on. "I may never have such achance again. "

"You don't mean----?"

"It would make my story a little truer, too. .. . And wouldn't it bequicker?"

"Quicker? The quickest way is to go back to Assiout and catch themiddle-of-the-night express there and get to Luxor to-morrowmorning. "

Arlee sighed. "I always wanted to be a gypsy, " she murmuredregretfully, "and now I've begun it's such a pity to stop. .. . AndI'm _afraid_ to go back!" she cried, "They will be out looking forus--they are probably now on the way. And they'll shoot at you andcarry me off--Oh, do let's go on! Don't go back to that city! We cancatch the train another place. Oh, it's so much more _sensible_!"

"Sensible?" Billy repeated as if hypnotized. 

"Why, of course it is. And safer. For all those people back theremust be in that tribe of the sheik whose house I was in, and theyare dangerous, dangerous. I want to get as far away from them aspossible. I'd rather ride all the way to Thebes than run the riskof falling in their traps. "

Billy was silent. 

"And I'm sure the camels could make the trip in a couple of days, "she continued, sounding assured now, and pleasantly argumentative. "I used to read about their speed in my First Reader. .. . That is, ifyou don't mind the trouble, " she added apologetically, "and beingwith me that day more?"

Billy choked. She looked entirely unconscious, and his dumfoundedgaze fell blankly away. "There isn't anything in the world I'd likebetter, " he said slowly, sounding reluctance in the effort not tosound anything else, "but from your point of view--if we shouldmeet----"

"Only _fellaheen_ on the banks, " she returned unconcernedly. "Nothalf as awkward as people on trains. "

"But the--the chaperonless aspect of this picnic----?"

"Oh, _that_!" She was mildly scornful. Then she giggled. "I think achaperon would look very silly tagging along behind on a camel. .. . Besides we've gone so far already. You took the liberty of rescuingme, you know, and then the sand storm and this breakfast _àdeux_--What's a few meals more?"

There was truth in that--and truth in what she said about the dangerof returning to the city. They were already lingering overlong andBilly jumped up and packed their supply of food in sudden haste. Itwas folly, of course, to dream of the entire trip to Thebes oncamelback, but Girgeh was about fifty miles south, and it would besafer and almost as near to push on there or to the next town, wherever that was, and there get the train as to return toAssiout. .. . 

Oh, Billy, Billy! What specious argument! And why must every brightdelightful fruit be forbidden by dull care or justified byflagrantly untenable artifice? Who but a fool would boggle over thischance, this gloriously deserved crown of the adventure, this gay, random ride over the deserts with Arlee?. .. To her it was nothingbut a prolonging of the lark into which the affair had miraculouslybeen turned. Billy was Big Brother--the American Big Brother withwhom one might go safely adventuring for a day or a year. .. . Andsuddenly Billy felt a warm gladness within him. Not even herescapade with the unspeakable Turk had been able to shake her dearfaith in her own countrymen. .. . He was not man to her; he wasAmerican. Billy waved the flag loyally in his grateful thoughts. 

Aloud he said, "There's risk in trying to go back, of course. That'swhat they're expecting of us. But there will be uncertainty in goingon----"

"I rather like it. It's the certainty that frightens, " she gave backeagerly. "I want the way that puts the greatest distance between meand that man. .. . I don't care what else happens so he doesn't findus. "

 * * * * *

It is utterly astonishing how unastonishing the most astonishingsituations become at the slightest wont. 

Nothing on the face of it could have been more preposterous to BillyB. Hill's imagination than trotting along the banks of the Nile ona camel with a gossamer-haired girl trotting beside him, two lonestrays in a dark-skinned land, and yet after a few hours of it, itwas the most natural thing in the world!

It was all color and light and vivid, unforgettable impressions. Itwas all sparkle and gaiety and charm. They were two children in aworld of enchantment. Nothing could have been more fantastic thanthat day. 

Sometimes they rode low on paths between green _dhurra_ fields, sometimes they rode high along the Nile embankment, watching theblue waters alive with winged fleet, black buffaloes splashing inshallows under charge of little bronze babies of boys, watching allthe scenes about them shift and change with magic mutability. 

They lunched beside an old well, they dined by the river bank, andthen as the velvet shadows deepened in the folds of the Arabianmountains across the river and the first stars pricked through thelilac sky above them, they pressed on hurriedly into the southwestthat glowed like molten gold behind the black bars of the palms. .. . And by and by when even the after-glow had ceased to incarnadine thefar horizon and the path was too black and strange for them, theyturned off across the fertile valley into the edging desert againand saw the new moon rise like an arrow of fire over the rim of theworld and pour forth a golden flood that lightened the way yetfarther south for their tired beasts. 

Arlee rode like a fairy princess of mystery, the silver shawl whichthey had bought at a village to shield her from the sun, drooping inheavy folds from her head, its metal threads glimmering in the moonrays. .. . Her eyes were solemn with the beauty and the wonder, ofthe night, and the strange solitude and isolation; her look wasethereal to Billy and mystically lovely. 

But Girgeh seemed to retreat farther and farther into the unknownsouth, and at last it was no fairy princess but only a very tiredgirl who slid stiffly down from the saddle, and pillowed a heavyhead on Billy's coat. And it was a very tired young man who laybeside her, listening to the deep breathing of the beasts and thefaint breath that rose rhythmically beside him. Yet for a time hedid not sleep. His heart was full of the awe and mystery of themoonlit world about him--and the awe and mystery of that little bitof the living world curled there so intimately in the dark. .. . 

With a reverent hand he drew the wraps he had purchased closer overher. The night was growing cold. Far off the jackals howled. .. . Withhis gun at hand he slept at last, and slept sound, though sand isthe hardest mattress in the world and a camel's back not the softestpillow. .. . 

CHAPTER XIX

THE PURSUIT

"But I shall die, " said Arlee. "I shall simply die if I have to goanother step upon that creature. "

She said it cheerfully, but firmly, a sleepy, sunburned littlenomad, sitting cross-legged in the sands, slowly plaiting herhoney-colored hair. "Even this, " she announced, indicating theslight gesture of braiding, "is agony. "

"It's the morning after, " said Billy, testing his shoulder with wrygrimaces. "It's yesterday's speed--and then this infernally coldnight. No wonder we're lame. Why, I have one universal crickwherever I used to have muscles. But let me call your attention tothe fact that we are in the wilds of Egypt and that tangerines arehardly a lasting breakfast. Something has to be done. "

"Not upon camels, " said Arlee fixedly. 

"They say it doesn't hurt after an hour or so more. "

"I shouldn't live to find out. "

"A walk, " he suggested, "a slow, swaying, gently undulatingwalk----?"

"A long, lingering, agonizing death, " the young lady translated. She tossed the curly end of her braid over her shoulder and rose, with sounds of lamentation. "I ought to have known better than tosit down again when I was once up, " she confided sadly. 

"Just what, " inquired her companion, "is your idea for the day? Howdo you expect to reach Girgeh? It can't be very far away now----"

"Then we'll walk--_we'll_ walk, " she emphasized, "and tow thoseships of the desert after us. That will be bad enough, butbetter--_what's that?_"

Like a top, for all his stiffness, Billy spun about to stare whereher finger pointed. Over the crest of a hillock, far to thenorth--yes, something was hurrying their way. 

"A man on horseback, " said Arlee anxiously. "They can't have tracedus, can they, all this way----?"

"Of course not--but we'll take no chances, " returned Billy briskly;"no more talk of pedestrian tours now!" and promptly he helped thegirl, no longer demurring, into the saddle, and thwacked her camelinto arising, just dodging the long, yellow teeth that the resentfulbeast tried to fasten upon his shoulder. 

They started at no soothing walk, but at a hurrying trot. 

Worriedly, her delicate brows knitting, "It's absurd, but, " saidArlee, "they could have traced us, I suppose, from my telegraphingat that little native station for my trunks to be sent. "

"And mine, " said Billy. "And from my trying to get my letter ofcredit cashed. "

"That Captain could have telegraphed to all the places down theline to know if we'd been seen----"

"Even if we hadn't wired or tried to get money, our presence aloneand our buying food would have aroused talk. I told everybody, " theyoung man continued, "that I was an artist and you were my sister, and that passed all right--but if Kerissen has been makinginquiries----"

"I'm desperately glad we didn't go back toward Assiout, " she thrustin. "We'd have walked right into some trap of his!"

"Lord knows what we ought to have done! Lord knows what we ought todo now!"

"Just keep on going, " she encouraged. "We can't be very far fromGirgeh, can we?"

"I don't know, " said Billy soberly. "It may be half a day or a wholeday more--you remember how vague that old woman was last night. .. !"Bitterly he added, "And I'm afraid you've got a chump of a guide. "

"I've the best one in the world!" she flashed indignantly. 

But her assurance brought no solace to the young man's troubledsoul. He reflected that they could have taken a train the daybefore. To be sure, he had not money enough for tickets to Luxor, yet he had enough for two to Girgeh. But Arlee had shrunk fromentering a train in her dishevelled costume, fearful of watchingeyes and gossiping tongues, and had advised riding on to Girgeh, where shops and banks would help them, and he had yielded apparentlyto her desires, but in reality to his own secret self that clung toevery joyful contraband moment of this magic time with her. Sincerely he had thought their danger ended. .. . But those trailinghorsemen--"_Brute!_" he raged dumbly at himself. "Dolt! Idiot!"

Anxiously Billy looked at Arlee. It was an ordeal of a ride. 

They had ridden on in silence, occasionally glancing back over theirshoulders. At last Arlee said, quietly, "Do you see anything--overthere--to the left?"

Billy had been seeing it for fifteen minutes. 

"Another horseman, isn't it?" he carelessly suggested. 

"He seems to be riding the same way we are. "

"Well, we've no monopoly of travel in this region. "

She answered, after a moment, "There's another close behind him. Ijust saw him on top of a little hill. I suppose they can see us?"

"Probably. " Billy's face was grave. If they continued their windingpath in from the desert to the intervening hills that shut them fromthe Nile valley, and the horsemen continued their course along thebase of those hills, they would soon meet. 

"Do you mind speeding up a little?" he asked. "I'd rather like tocross to the Nile ahead of that gentry. "

But as they speeded up the pursuers did the same, and from mere dotsthey grew to tiny figures, clearly discernible, furiously gallopingover the sands. 

Billy thought hard about his cartridges, wishing he had more in hisclothes. When he had left the hotel that Tuesday evening he hadthrust the loaded revolver in his pocket, but he had alreadydischarged it twice at the beginning of their flight. .. . And then hestartlingly reflected that the Captain could easily cause theirarrest for stealing those camels, and wild and dreadful thoughts ofnative jails and mixed tribunals darted into his harassed andanxious mind. As a long ridge of sand intervened between them andtheir pursuers he made a sudden decision. 

"Let's turn off, " he said quickly, and from the little winding path, edging southeast, they struck directly south over the tracklesssand. 

"You see, they'll expect us to make a railroad station as soon aspossible, " he explained, "and they are probably trying to nab us onthe way to it--if those men have anything to do with us at all. " Hesaid nothing about his vivid fear of arrest for the camels and thetool such an arrest would be for Kerissen's designs. He merelyadded, "I think we'd better try to give them the slip and steerclear of all the little native joints until we get to Girgeh, whichis big enough to give us some protection. There must be an Englishsomething-or-other there. .. . I really think we ought to go as fastas we can now, and when the way is clear, hurry across the hillsinto the Nile valley. "

But the way did not become clear. Disconcerted by that unexpecteddash off the path, and reduced for a time to mere dots again, thehorsemen, three in a row now, hung persistently upon their leftflank, keeping a parallel course between them and the hills. 

The day had dawned with a promise of sultry heat, and as the sunrose higher and higher in the heavens the heat grew more and moreintolerable to their ill-protected heads and thirsty tongues. Thegaiety of yesterday was gone; the enchantment had vanished from thewaste spaces, and the desert was less a friend now than an enemy. Chokingly the dust rose about them, and glaringly the gold of theburning sands beat back the glare of the down-pouring sun. From sucha heat the landscape seemed to shrink and veiled itself with a faintand swimming haze. 

By noon the flask of water in Billy's pocket was empty. By noontheir mouths were parched and their skins burning. And still ontheir left there hung the hounding dots, like prowling jackals. 

Anxiously Billy looked at Arlee. This was an ordeal of a ride thattried the stuff the girl was made of. She was no princess of mysterynow, crossing the moonlit sands; she was no gossamer wraith of agirl miraculously with him for a time; she was a very hot and humancompanion, worried and tired, shutting her dry mouth over any wordof complaint, smiling pluckily at him with dusty lips from theshrouding hood of her veil. She was completely and thoroughly abrick. 

And Billy's heart ached for her, even while his spirit exulted inher spirit. 

"Beastly hot, isn't it?" he gasped, pulling his insufficient capdown over his bloodshot eyes. 

Valiantly she smiled. "What's a little--heat?" came joltingly back. 

"And rough going. "

"What's a little--roughness?"

There wasn't any word good enough for her. There wasn't any wordgood enough to describe such superhuman courage and sweetness. Billyhad credited all beauties with being spoiled. All he had known hadbeen distinctly spoiled, even the near-beauties, and the not-so-nearones, yet here was the most radiantly lovely girl he had ever seenbehaving like an angel of grit. 

He didn't quite know what else he expected her to do--havehysterics, perhaps, or weep, or reproach him for having taken awrong way and elected a rash course. He had known that this girlcould be a very minx when piqued. But in the graver crises of lifeshe proved herself a thoroughbred. She would go till she dropped andnever whimper. 

He thought of all she must have been through in that horriblepalace, and he marvelled at the swiftness with which her spirit hadreverted to blitheness again. The disaster, that might have been sostunning, so irremediable, had passed over her head like lightningthat had not struck. .. . Even the horror of it had seemed yesterdayto fade in her like the horror of an evil dream. That was what ithad been to her--an evil dream. She was so young, so much of her wasstill a child, that the full terror had not touched her. 

 * * * * *

They had come to a road at last, a road which seemed to be leadingin from the desert very gradually to the hills upon their left, andit seemed to Billy that it must be a caravan road to Girgeh, and hefelt themselves upon the right track. They must keep their lead, andwhen that lead seemed sufficient, they must put on all possiblespeed to make the crossing through the hills into the Nile valleyahead of their pursuers. Once more he stirred their lagging camelsinto a jogging trot. .. . 

It was around the middle of the afternoon now, and it had been noonsince their tongues had tasted water. Arlee felt her mouth parchedand her tongue dry and curling; her skin was feverishly hot; herwhole body burned and ached, and her head was giddy with the heatand the hunger. But she thought how little a thing it was to be hotand hungry and tired--when one was free. And she drew the silvershawl closer over her head and wrapped the silken tunic of her frockabout her scorching shoulders, and clung tight to the pommel of herbig saddle as her beast pounded on and on in his lurching stride. 

 * * * * *

It had been some time since they had seen the dots, and now the roadahead of them, like the former path they had abandoned, was turningmore and more to the left, winding in and out the low and brokenfoothills, and as they followed its course with increasing security, Billy began to tell himself that their fears had been unfounded andthe alarming horsemen were merely following their own route south. 

And then he heard a whistle. 

A prescience of danger shot through him. His fears returned ahundredfold. Sharply he scanned the way about them, but nothing wasin sight. The whistle was not repeated; he could have imagined thathe dreamed it. An utter stillness possessed the wilderness. 

And then around the corner of a jutting rock ahead of them ahorseman trotted, a big black man on a gray horse, and reined in, waiting, facing them. Arlee gave a choking cry. 

"The eunuch!" she gasped out. 

Behind them Billy flung a lightning glance, and over the heads ofthe dunes two more riders appeared, converging down upon them fromthe rear. Three in sight--how many more behind the rocks?

Desperately Billy gripped his bridle rope, and with a wrenching pulland a whack of his guiding stick he turned his camel sharply to theleft, snatching at Arlee's bridle rope as the beasts bumped againsteach other in their surprise. 

"Quick--this way, " Billy commanded, and with the left hand clutchingthe girl's rope, with the right he wielded the stick furiously. Outover the sand both camels plunged, goaded into wild speed by suchviolent measures, and a cheated yell broke from the horsemen and theoutcries of pursuit. 

While rage at such unreason lasted the camels went like mad, butsuch speed could not be for long. They had been hard ridden for twodays and they were nearly spent. The horsemen behind had drawntogether and hung on their trail like three hounds, ridingcautiously in the rear, but easily keeping the distance. It occurredto Billy that these pursuers could have changed horses on the way, and must inevitably tire them out. And then?

On and on he beat his poor beasts, racing toward the hills that, just ahead of them, rose sharply from the broken ground, seekingamong them some fortress of rocks for a defiant stand. 

A tug on the bridle rope nearly jerked it from his hand. Arlee'scamel had stumbled; the poor thing was lurching wearily. 

"He can't go--any more, " the girl cried out pitifully. "He--he'ssobbing. Don't beat him--I won't have him beaten!"

"We must get there, " he called back, waving at the cliff-like rocks. 

"Then go--on foot. I could--run faster. "

"No, you couldn't, " he shouted fiercely back. 

She flared. "Don't you hit him again!"

The maddening absurdity of the quarrel in the face of hostile Africafilled Billy with the futile fury of exasperation. He ground histeeth, glowering at her, and wound her halter rope about hissmarting hand. All his hope was concentrated upon the necessity ofwinning to that rocky shelter before their pursuers overtook them. To him the camels were nothing in the face of such necessity. 

They were going slower and slower; his blows had no avail now oneither beast. They plodded on. He turned suddenly in his saddle andsaw the three riders spreading fan-shape around them, the one in thecenter nearest. He whipped out his gun and fired at the horse. 

His own motion made the ball fly wild, but the horseman drew upinstantly, and the other edged discreetly away. And in the ensuingmoments the two fugitives gained the base of those cliff-like hillsand perceived the dark oblong of a cave mouth. 

Down from their exhausted camels they flung themselves, and hand inhand raced to the entrance of the cave. Coolness and blacknessreceived them. Their eyes discovered nothing of the tunnel-likeinterior. 

Putting Arlee some distance within, Billy went to the mouth andstood, his gun in his hand, peering watchfully out. He saw thehorsemen draw together for a parley, then one remained on guardwhile the others circled on separate ways beyond his range of sight. His fear was that one of them might steal alongside the cave andleap unexpectedly into its very mouth upon him, so with taut nerveshe crouched expectant. 

Behind him Arlee gave a sudden shriek. 

 [Illustration: "Billy went to the mouth, peering watchfully out"]

CHAPTER XX

A FRIEND IN NEED

He whirled. "I'll fire!" he warned, staring into the dark, but hiseyes, dazed with the sun, discerned nothing, and in utter ignorancehe faced the black possibilities. 

"A man--a hand----" Arlee gasped incoherently. 

"Good Lord, what is it?" said a voice so near at hand that both werestartled. 

"Burroughs!" ejaculated Billy. "Is it you--Burroughs?"

"Yes, it's I, Burroughs, " the owner of the voice retorted irritably. "And who the deuce are you?"

"Hill--Billy B. Hill, " came the jubilant answer, and "Billy bedamned!" said the astonished voice, with sudden joviality, and adark shape strode up to them. "What on earth are you doing here? Andwhat about that firing? Think I was a robber bold?"

"Well, there are three robber sneaks outside that we are hidingfrom, so I wasn't sure. .. . Great Cæsar, old scout, but I'm glad tosee you! That puts us out of the woods at last. .. . It's theexcavator friend, " he added, turning to Arlee. "Burroughs, I presentyou to Miss Beecher. She and I have been having a thoroughlyimpossible adventure. "

"Let's have a little light upon these introductions, " returned theexcavator, and a click was heard, and a light jumped out overhead, flooding the tunnel-like place with brightness. In its beams thethree stood staring queerly at each other. 

Arlee saw a slim, wiry young American, in rough khaki clothesstained with work, a browned, unshaven young man with sleepy lookingeyes and a mouth like a steel trap. 

What the excavator saw was more surprising. There was his friendBilly, whom two weeks before he had seen off on a Nile steamerreturning to Cairo, in tropic splendor of white serge and Panamahat, now a scarlet spectacle of sunburn and dirt, in mostdisgraceful tweeds, and beside him what Burroughs took to be a childin tatterdemalion white, a silky, fluttering white, which even hisuntrained observation knew was hardly elected for desert wear. Thelittle girl's hair was hanging tangled over her shoulders, and wasmuch the color of the sand with which her face was coated, andunderneath that coating he saw that she was red as a peony with sunand wind. They were a startling pair. 

Gravely, with unchanging eyes, he acknowledged the introduction, andthen, "What's this about robbers?" he went on. "What kind of a yarnare you putting over?"

"Nothing I want put over on the general public. " Billy was thinkingvery hard. "You're going to be our salvation, Burroughs, but even toyou--well, I'll put it briefly. We were having a desert ride andsome Turkish fellows who have annoyed her before chased us. Thereare our camels, just outside. And you can see one of the fellows onhorseback keeping watch. The others are somewhere about. .. . And now, for heaven's sake, get us a drink of water. "

Burroughs walked to the door of the tomb and looked out an instant, then he turned and went toward the back, returning with a smallnative jar full of water. 

"I've no glass, but if you can manage this----?" he said to Arlee, and she clutched the cool pottery with two hot little hands and, murmuring a quick affirmative, she put it to her lips. 

Then she held it out to Billy. 

"I suppose--we mustn't---drink as much as we want. "

"I couldn't, " said Billy, after a grateful swallowing. "I'd drainthe Nile. .. . Got a camp here?"

"Yes. You'd have seen my men any other time of day, but we knockedoff a while out of the sun, " Burroughs explained. "I've rigged upthis tomb as living quarters while I'm here. Now what do you want meto do? Would you like a guard?"

"We'd like a guard and a bath and cold cream, " said Billy joyfully. "And then we'd like dinner and donkeys. "

Burroughs grunted. 

"Umph--I should say you'd one donkey already in yourparty--careering around the desert with a little girl like this, " hevouchsafed, and Arlee's eyes widened at his brusque nod at her. Shewas staring about her now with a curious interest, for all heraching tiredness, gazing wonderingly at the dazzling white wallswith their strange and brilliant paintings. She saw they were in along, deep chamber, from which other openings led to unimagineddeeps. 

"I guess you never were in a place like this before?" Burroughsinquired, and she shook her head dumbly, feeling suddenly too spentfor words. 

"Can she get a rest here?" said Billy anxiously. "We've had thedevil of a ride. "

"The place is all hers, " returned Burroughs. "I'll send you somefood and cold cream--you mustn't wash that sunburn, you know, oryou'll be a sorry girl to-morrow--and then you can rest as long asyou like. How much of a hurry are you in?" he added to Billy. 

"Well, we want to take a train to Luxor to-night. I suppose Girgeh'sthe next station?"

"You suppose? You _are_ at sea--where did you start from, anyway?"But hastily Burroughs sped from that inquisitive question. "Ballianais your next station, " he reported. "You've all the time you want, and I'll take you over myself. Now make yourself as comfortable asyou can, " he added to Arlee, handing her a big jar of cold cream andlugging forward an armful of rugs. "I'll be back with some food in ajiffy. "

"You're very kind, " Arlee spoke stanchly, but as soon as the two menstepped from the tomb, she seemed to wilt down into the rugs and laythere, too tired to stir. 

Outside Burroughs blew sharply on a whistle, and from the mouth ofanother cave a file of black boys in ragged robes made a stragglingappearance. Burroughs gave orders which resulted in a kindling offire and the opening of boxes, and then he walked back to whereBilly was surveying the weary camels. At a distance, like anequestrian statue, the watching horseman was standing. Burroughsstared hard at the distant Nubian, then stared harder at Billy. 

"This is wonderful luck, " Billy said to him, very soberly. "I didn'tthink of you as nearer than Thebes. "

"We just heard of some fresh finds here, so I'm combing over thetombs. .. . But you--it's none of my business, Billy, but what in hellare you doing racing over Egypt with a ten-year old kid?"

"Ten-year-old--Great Cæsar, man, that's a _real girl_! She's _grownup_! She's old enough to vote--or nearly. "

Burroughs stared harder than ever. 

Then, "I shouldn't call that an extenuating circumstance, " hementioned wryly. 

"Extenuating nothing! Look here, let me----"

"You needn't tell me anything, you know, " Burroughs suggested ingreat indifference. 

"Oh, shut up!" Billy spoke with deep disgust. "You've got to help usout of this and then forget the whole business. " He paused a moment;then, "Miss Beecher made the mistake of taking a rash ride with me. She was traveling alone, to meet some friends, to Luxor--and theindiscretion is entirely mine, you understand. I got her into it. And then, as I said, a Turkish fellow, that had been making himselfobjectionable by following her, got his men out after us and chasedus down here. Her trunks have gone on to Luxor where those friendsare, and we have to find some presentable wraps for her and get herto the first train. _Verstehen_?"

"Grasped--and forgotten, " said his friend laconically. Just for aninstant his sleepy gaze touched Billy's rugged face, then fellcasually away. "I suppose any comments that occur to me aresuperfluous?" he pleasantly observed. 

"Completely. .. . And, Lord Harry, but I'm glad to see you!"

"Same here. " Burroughs gave Billy's arm a friendly grip and Billyspun fiercely about on him. "Don't you do that again!" he warned. "Take the other one. That's got a--a scratch. "

"A scratch? One of those fellows wing you out there? Let me have alook----"

"No, it's all right--it's nothing----"

"Let me see, you old chump----"

"It's all right, I tell you. It's been taken care of--it's just arelic of Cairo. "

"Cairo!" Slowly Burroughs let fall the hand he had laid upon Billy'sarm. "You do seem to be having a lively trip, " he commented, grinning. "Here, hurry up, you rascals, hurry up with that big jug. "

Taking the large jar from them, he returned to the tomb, stoppingabruptly at sight of Arlee's weary abandon. She half sat up, afrail, exhausted little figure, whose grace was strangely appealingthrough all her sandy dishevelment. 

"Some water--for washing, " he stammered. 

"You're very thoughtful. "

"I'll have to beg your pardon, " he blurted, for Burroughs was nosquire of dames. "I thought you were a little girl and spoke to youas if----"

"It's just the hairpins that make the difference, isn't it?" saidArlee, with a whimsical smile. "I don't suppose you have any ofthose in camp that I could borrow?"

He shook his head regretfully. Then his brain seized upon theproblem. "Bent wires?" he suggested. "I might try----"

"Do, " she besought. "I'll be grateful forever. "

He withdrew to make the attempt, and in his place came Billy with atray of luncheon. 

"Just--put it down, " Arlee said faintly. "I'll eat--by and by. "

Worriedly Billy looked down on the girl. Her eyes closed. Excitementhad ebbed, leaving her like some spent castaway on the shores. Hedropped on his knees beside her, dipping a clean handkerchief in thejar of cold cream. 

"Just let me get this off, " he said quietly. "You'll feel better. "

Like a child she submitted, lying with closed eyes while withanxious care he took the sand from her delicate, burning skin. Hedid the same for her listless hands; he brushed back her hair andput water on her temples; he dabbed more cold cream tenderly on thepathetic little blisters on her lips. 

"I'm--all right. " The blue eyes looked suddenly up at him with aclear smile. "I'm--just resting. "

"And now you'll eat a bit?"

Obediently she took the sandwich he made for her, and lifted herhead to drink the cup of tea. 

"I'm a--nuisance, " she murmured. 

"You're a _brick_!" he gave back, with muffled intensity. "You're aperfect brick!"

Then he backed hastily out of her presence, for fear his stumblingtongue would betray him--or his clumsy, longing hands--or hisfoolish eyes. He felt choking with the tenderness he must notexpress. He ached with his Big Brother pity for her, and with hislonging for her, which wasn't in the least Big Brotherly, and withall the queer, bewildering jumble of emotion that she had power towake in him. 

Very silently he returned to Burroughs, and when he had made atrifle of a toilet and eaten far from a trifle of lunch, the twoyoung men stretched themselves out in the shade, just beyond theentrance of the tomb, conversing in low tones, while around them thelabor song of Burroughs' workmen rose and fell in unvaryingmonotony, as from a nearby hole they carried out baskets of sandupon their heads and poured the contents upon the heap where thepatient sifters were at work. 

Burroughs talked of his work, the only subject of which he wascapable of long and sustained conversation. He dilated upon a rarefind of some blue-green tiles of the time of King Tjeser, a thirddynasty monarch, and a mummy case of one of the court of King Pepi, of the sixth dynasty, "about 3300 B. C. , " he translated forBilly, and then suddenly he saw that Billy's eyes were absent andBilly's pipe was out. 

In sudden silence he knocked out the ashes from his own pipe andslowly refilled it. "Congratulations, " he ejaculated, and at Billy'sslow stare he jerked his head back toward the tomb. "I say, congratulations, old man. "

"Oh!" Billy became ludicrously occupied with the dead pipe. 

"Nothing doing, " he returned decidedly. 

"No? . .. I thought----"

"You sounded as if you had been thinking. Don't do it again. "

"And also I had been remembering, " said Burroughs, with causticemphasis, "knowing that in the past wherever youth and beauty wasconcerned----"

So successfully had that past been sponged from Billy's concentratedheart, so utterly had other youth and beauty ceased to exist forhim, that he greeted the reminder with belligerent unwelcome. 

"I tell you it was all an accident, " he retorted irritably. "There'snothing more to it. .. . Hello, our horseman is coming this wayagain!"

Grateful for the interruption to this ticklish excursion into hissacred emotions, he jumped to his feet and went out to meet the manwho was riding slowly toward them, the two others in his train. Burroughs went with him, and a brief parley followed. 

"He says, " Burroughs translated, "that these are his camels and heis going to take them away. He says you stole them from him atAssiout. "

"That's right, " Billy confirmed easily. "He can have 'em, " andBurroughs, vouchsafing no comment on this curious development, gavethe message to the Nubian. Then he turned again to Billy. "He wants:the money for their hire. "

"For their----! Of all the dad-blasted, iron-clad cheek! You justtell him for me that he'll get his 'hire' all right if he hangsaround me. Tell him I'll have him arrested for molesting and robbingtravelers; and tell him to tell his master that if he shows his headnear an English girl again I'll have him hanged as high asHaman--and shot to pieces while he swings! The infernalscoundrel----"

Whatever work Burroughs made of this translation it sent the sullen, inscrutable-looking fellow off in silence, his followers leading therecovered camels. 

"And may that be the last of them, " said Billy B. Hill, in ferventthanksgiving. "Except Kerissen. I've got to meet him again--justonce. "

 * * * * *

Perhaps it was the hairpins. Perhaps it was the bathed face and thesleep-brightened eyes and the rearranged gown. But certainlyBurroughs stared in amazement at the slim little figure that issuedfrom the entrance, and a queer, a very queer confusion seized uponhim. Not even outrageous sunburn and pathetic blisters could hideArlee's young loveliness. They only added an utterly upsettingtenderness to the beholder, and a most dangerous compassion. 

And just as each man is smitten with madness after the manner of hiskind, so Burroughs, the taciturn, was struck into amazingvolubility. As they sat about a cracker box of a table at an earlysupper, he became a perfect fount of information, pouring out tothis girl an account of his diggings that would have astounded anyof his intimates, and would surely have amazed Billy B. Hill if thatyoung man had been in a condition to notice his friend'sperformances. But he was wrapped in a personal gloom that haddescended on him like a cloud of unreason. The escapade was nearlyover. The little girl comrade was gone, the little girl whose facehe had so tenderly scrubbed of its grimy sand. A very self-possessedyoung lady was sitting beside him, drinking her coffee, an utterlylovely and gracious young lady--but unfathomably remote--elusive. .. . 

Perhaps, again, it was the hairpins. 

Off to town on donkey back the three Americans rode slowly, a nativeescort filing after, and there in town the bazaars yielded a longpongee dust coat and a straw hat and a white veil, "to escapedetection, " Arlee gaily said, and a satchel which she filled withmysterious purchases, and then, clad once more in the semblance ofher traveling world, safe and sound and undiscovered, she stood uponthe station platform, awaiting the train to Luxor. 

Beside her, two very quiet young men responded but feebly to theflow of spirits that had amazingly succeeded her exhaustion. Burroughs was suddenly suffering from a depression most unfamiliarto his practical mind, which caused him to moon about his work fordays and made his depleted jar of cold cream a wincing memory, andBilly was increasingly glum. 

It was all over now. The girl, who for two winged days had been somagically his gypsy comrade, was returning to her own world, theworld in which he played so infinitesimal a part. For very pride'ssake now he could never force himself upon her . .. As he mightbefore . .. 

He stared down at her eagerly, hopefully, for a sign of regret atthe ending of this strange companionship, much as a big Newfoundlandmight watch for a caress from a cherished but tyrannic hand, but nota scrap of regret was evidenced. She was as blithe as a cricket. Heronly pang was for discovery. 

"You're sure, " she murmured as Burroughs left them to interview thestation clerk, "you're sure they'll never know?"

"I'm positive, " he stolidly responded. "Just stick to your story. "

"The Evershams won't question--they are never interested in otherpeople, " she mused, with thankfulness. "But Mr. Falconer----"

"Won't have a doubt, " said Billy firmly. His gloom closed in thicklyabout him. 

 * * * * *

It was a local, a train of corridor compartments. In one, marked"Ladies Alone, " Arlee was ensconced, with an Englishwoman and hermaid, and two pleasant German women, and in another Billy B. Hillsat opposite some young Copts and lighted pipe after pipe. When thetrain started out on the High Bridge across the Nile to the easternbank, he came out in the corridor to look out the wide glass windowsthere, and found Arlee beside him. 

"How do you do?" she said brightly. "How nice to meet accidentallylike this--you see, I'm rehearsing my story, " she added under herbreath. 

"Let's see if you have it straight, " he told her. 

"I arrive on a local which left Cairo this morning. .. . Did I comealone?"

"You'd better invent some nice traveling friend----"

She shook her head in flat refusal. "I won't. I'm not equal toinventing anything. It's bad enough now to--to tell the _necessary_lies I have to. " The brightness left her face looking suddenly wanand sorry. "I suppose it's part of my--punishment--for my dreadfulfolly, " she said in a low tone. 

"It's just part of the coin the world has to be paid in for itsconventions, " Billy quickly retorted. "_Don't_ let it worry you likethat--in a day no one will think to question you. "

"I know--but--it's having the memory always there. Always knowingthat there is something I can't be honest about--something secretand dreadful----"

She was staring unseeingly out the window, her soft lips twitching. 

"The Egyptians were a most sensible people, " said Billy. "They drewup a list of commandments against the forty-two cardinal sins, andone of them was this, 'Thou shalt not consume thy heart. ' That is areligious law against regret--vain, unprofitable, morbid, devastating regret. And you must take that law for your own. "

"Th--thank you. " The low voice was suspiciously wavery. "I--you see, I haven't had time to think about it till just now--we've been goingso fast----"

"And the best thing that could have happened. And now that you havethe time to think, you mustn't think _weakly_. It was just anightmare. And it's over. "

"Just a nightmare. .. . And it's over, " she repeated. Her eyes liftedto Billy's in a look of ineffable softness and wonder. "It'sover--because _you_ came. "

"I want you to forget that. " The young man spoke with cold curtnessin his effort to combat the wild temptation of that moment. "I onlydid what anyone else in my place would have done--to haveaccomplished it is all the gratitude I want. Please don't speak ofit to me again. You must forget about it. "

"Forget--as if I could help being grateful as long as I live!"

"But I don't _want_ you to be grateful. It--it's obnoxious to me!"

She was as blankly hurt as a slapped child. Then she looked away, alittle pulse in her throat beating fast. "Then I won't--try to thankyou, " she answered in a very small voice, and stared harder andharder out the window. 

Billy felt that he had accomplished a tremendous stride. "A feelingof obligation kills a friendship, " he told her didactically, "and Iwant you to be really my friend. "

"I am. " Her voice was distinct, though queerly lack-luster. And shedid not look at him again. 

He went on: "The Evershams will be in on the boat about seven. Fromthe station I'll take you straight to the boat, where your stateroomis surely being kept for you. Then to-morrow your trunks will arrivefrom Cook's, and by the time you are through resting, you will beready to sally out and meet the world. .. . I hope my own trunk willmake its appearance, too, " he added. "I telegraphed the hotel topack my things and send them on. "

She made no comment on the obvious haste with which he had leftCairo. She said slowly, "I want to do a little mathematics now. Whatis the shocking sum I owe you?"

He shut his lips in an obstinate line. After a moment she added, "Ican't take _that_, you know. "

It struck him as a trifle ludicrous that dollars were so importantamong all the rest, but unwillingly enough he understood. 

"Won't you just let it stand as it is?" he said under his breath. "Let me have the whole thing--please. "

"I can't. "

"You mean you won't?"

"I can't, " she repeated inflexibly, and then, with a childish flash, "Since you dislike me to feel grateful--I should think you would beglad to let me reduce the debt. "

"All right. " He spoke gruffly. "Then you owe me what you spent justnow and what your railroad ticket cost. Not a cent more. For whatwent before I am absolutely responsible, and I decline to let youpay _my_ debts. "

This time he was inflexible. She repeated, with a spark ofresentment, "It's not fair to let you pay so much----"

"It was _my_ adventure, " said Billy firmly. 

She said, "Very well, " in a voice that puzzled him. He felt shewas annoyed. And he realized more than ever that he could nevertake advantage of her indebtedness to make her pay with hercompanionship. It was becoming a queer tangle. .. . He felt they hadsuddenly slipped out of tune. .. . She seemed to be escapinghim--withdrawing . .. 

He wondered, very unhappily, with no fine glow of altruism at all, if he had rescued her for another man. Those things happened, theyhappened with dismal frequency. Billy distinctly recalled theexperience of a college friend who had carried a girl out of aburning hotel, to have her wildly embrace an unstirring youth below. Yes, such things happened. But he had never contemplated havinganything like that happen to him. 

He contemplated it now, however, contemplated it long and bitterly, when Arlee had gone back to her compartment and he sat silent in hisbeside the chattering Copts while the train rattled on and on. Therewould be three days at Luxor before the boat proceeded upon itssouthern journey. And then----

Three days. .. . Three miserable, paltry, insufficient days, blightedby the chaperoning Evershams. .. . Frantically he hoped against hisdark foreboding that one menace at least might be averted--that bynow Luxor would have ceased to shelter a certain sandy-haired youngEnglishman. 

CHAPTER XXI

CROSS PURPOSES

Luxor was warm and drowsy with afternoon sun. Motionless the frondsof the tall palms along the water front; motionless the columns ofthe temple reflected in the blue Nile. Even the almost continuouscommotion of the landing stage was stilled. 

The two big Nile steamers, of rival lines, lay quietly at rest, emptied of their tourists, and on the embankment the dragomans, thedonkey boys, the innumerable venders, were lounging in the shade atdominoes or dice. 

In the big white hotels facing the river many drawn blinds spoke ofnapping travelers, and in the shade of the garden of the Grand othertravelers were whiling away the listless inertia of the hour beforetea. 

"I suppose it's _quite_ too early?" murmured a girl at one of thetables, in the shade of a big acacia. Her companion, fussing with apastel sketch, answered absently, without looking up, "Oh, quite, "and then with a note of brisker attention, "I thought we werewaiting for Robert?"

"Do you think he'll be back? It's _such_ a trip to the Tombs of theKings, you know!"

"To be sure he'll be back!" Miss Falconer spoke with asperity. "Andwhy he wanted to go over it again--it's odd you didn't care to go, too, Claire, " she added, most inconsequently. "It was such anexcellent opportunity--and you had already spoken of wishing to goagain. "

"But not so exhaustively. They are doing the entire programme. Ionly wanted some particular things. "

"You could have done them. "

"And it was hot. "

"It must have been just as hot in the bazaars with Mr. Hill. "

"Was it?"

This was purposeful vagueness and Miss Falconer's crayon snapped. She made a sound of annoyance, then began gathering her sketchingthings tidily together. Presently, "He's rather an agreeable person, that young American, after all, " she cannily observed. 

"Why, after all?" Lady Claire was implacably aloof. 

"Well, first impressions, you know----"

"_My_ first impressions of Mr. Hill were very delightful. " TheEnglish girl laughed softly, her eyes full of reminiscent amusement. "He was a _deus ex machina_ to me--I quite jumped at him, I assureyou!"

"You don't have to assure me!" was the elder lady's unspokencomment. She had been in a state of chronic irritation, ever sincethat Friday noon when Billy B. Hill's tall figure had appeared inthe hotel dining room. And hurrying Claire away from theconversation he was promptly evoking, she had encountered ArleeBeecher and the Evershams streaming with the other passengers fromtheir boat to see the temple of Luxor, a wonderfully gay and excitedArlee, so radiant in the happiness of her own safe world again thatshe was bright gladness incarnate. .. . Instantly Robert had revertedto his alarming infatuation . .. And Lady Claire had most shamelesslywelcomed the American. It was all unspeakably annoying. .. . 

Aloud Miss Falconer observed, "I wonder what brought Mr. Hill backto the Nile. "

"I wonder, " said Lady Claire pleasantly. "But it makes it very nicefor us, doesn't it?" she continued amiably. "He knows quite_everything_ about temples. "

"And particularly nice for Miss Beecher--though I can't say she istreating him very well. However, that may be their way. 'Romanceapart from results, ' was, I believe, his phrase. "

Lady Claire was silent. But not overlong. "You really think----?"she suggested tranquilly. 

"He came on the same train. "

"Coincidence. He mentioned he did not see her in the train tillBalliana. "

"Umph!" Miss Falconer drew out of her bag the especial knittingwhich she reserved for the Sabbath, and her fingers flew withexpressive spirit. "It's scandalous, " she said at length. "Girlsgadding about the face of the earth--picking up chaperons when theyremember them. "

"It's their way, you know. "

"Oh, yes, it's their way. And their men seem to like it. Mr. Hilldidn't seem to consider it even _unusual_. .. . But as I said, he'shardly a judge, " Miss Falconer went on unsparingly. "The man'sbewitched. He never takes his eyes off her. "

"I'm sure I don't blame him. " Lady Claire's tone was mostsuccessfully admiring. "She's too _wonderful_, isn't she, with thosegreat blue eyes and that astonishing hair! I'm sure Robert isbewitched, too!"

"Nonsense!" But Miss Falconer's tone was too vigorous, betraying theeffort to rout a palpable enemy. "What nonsense!" she repeated. "He's civil--naturally--when _you_ haven't a moment for him. The boyhas pride. Too much. " The knitting needles clicked warningly. 

"Civil!" The girl's low laughter was mocking. "Dear Miss Falconer, you are such an _euphuist_!"

Miss Falconer looked up, a trifle startled. Her young charge wasmore than a match for her in irony, but the elder lady did not lackfor solid perseverance, and she charged on undeterred. 

"Of course the girl's pretty--too pretty. And Robert's a man--he haseyes in his head and likes to please them. And she knows who he isand draws him on. "

"I don't think Miss Beecher cares a twopence who Robert is, " saidLady Claire honestly. "When I told her he was going to stand forRoxham she answered that she had a very poor opinion of M. P. S--fromreading Mrs. Ward. I can't _quite_ see what she meant--but as forher drawing him on, a moment ago, dear, you were accusing her ofluring Mr. Hill back from Cairo. "

"I said he followed. I daresay she lured, too. The secondstring----"

"Then it's quite _nice_ of me, isn't it, to carry off her secondstring to the bazaars and prevent her playing him against Robert!"

Lady Claire laughed mischievously, in a flight of daring so foreignto her usual reticence that Miss Falconer grimly perceived that shewas changed indeed. She thought helplessly that it was a great pitythat young people couldn't be treated as the children theywere--smacked and made to do what was best for them. 

"And after all this dreadful gossiping how can we face our guests attea?" the girl continued in mock chiding. 

"If they are much later we shall not be facing them at all, " theolder woman declared. "I shall certainly have my tea at the propertime. "

The sight of an Arab servant with a tray of dishes had stirred herto this declaration, and promptly she gave her order. In the middleof it, "I'm always late!" said a merry voice, and little MissBeecher and Falconer were standing on the grass beside them. 

"This time we had no following engagement, " said Miss Falconer, unpleasantly reminiscent of another tea time in Cairo, ten daysbefore, but even with her resentment of this American girl'sintrusion into her long-cherished plans, she could not prevent thesoftening of her regard as she gazed upon her. 

"You don't look as if you had been riding very hard at the Tombs ofthe Kings, " she observed, in reluctant admiration. 

"Oh, but we have! We did quite a lot of Tombs--not anything likethoroughly, of course!--and then we rode back early and madeourselves tidy for your tea party, " Arlee blithely explained, andMiss Falconer perceived that her brother Robert had returned to thehotel without seeking them out, had arrayed himself in fresh whiteflannels and returned to the boat to escort Miss Beecher across theroad into the hotel garden. 

Absently she sighed. Her eyes fell away from the peach-blossomprettiness of Arlee's lovely face to the subtle simplicity of herwhite frock of loosely woven silk, and she wondered if that heavyembroidery meant money--or merely spending money. And then shelooked across at Lady Claire, and sighed again for her dream of anaristocratic alliance. 

"Mrs. Eversham--?" she thought to inquire. 

"They're having the vicar--or is it the rector?--to tea. They askedhim this morning before your message came, " Arlee explained. She didnot explain that the vicar, or the rector, had imagined, inaccepting, that she, too, was to be of that tea party on the boatand was even now inquiring zealously of her of the Evershams. 

"Here's Mr. Hill, " said Lady Claire. 

Miss Falconer stirred; there was room for the fifth chair betweenher and Arlee. Lady Claire also stirred; there was room between herand Robert Falconer. And there Billy B. Hill seated himself after ageneral exchange of greetings. 

"How were the bazaars?" said Arlee gaily across the table. 

"You mean the department store of Mr. Isaac Cohen, " Billy laughedback. "They are all under him, you know. "

"Not _really_!" Falconer exclaimed, in disillusionment. "It rathertakes it out, doesn't it, to know it is so commercialized. "

"What did you expect--it is the twentieth century, " Miss Falconerretorted, putting aside her knitting as the tea things arrived. 

"Sometimes it is, " said Arlee. 

"I think it's more so than ever, here, " declared Lady Claire. "Egypt's so _frightfully_ civilized----"

"Not when you're camping in the desert. "

Again that funny little smile flitted over Arlee's face; not oncedid she glance at Billy, but for all her air of unconsciousness hefelt that she was subtly sharing her thoughts with him and a quickspark of gladness flashed in him. 

Those had been three horrible days for Billy B. Hill. 

Friday morning he had been practically a prisoner until his trunkshad arrived. He had emerged upon a spectacle of Englandtriumphant--Robert Falconer escorting Arlee to the temple of Luxor. Later that afternoon he had called upon Arlee upon the boat to findFalconer still there, and the Evershams very much so. 

Robert Falconer had accompanied him back to the hotel. There wassomething that he wanted to ask, and he asked it bluntly, but withembarrassment. Had Billy said anything at all to Arlee of thatnonsense at the palace?

Here was a contingency for which Billy was not provided. He made noprovisions for this with Arlee. 

"Have you?" he parried. 

"Not a word, " said the young Englishman. "We've not mentioned thefellow's filthy name. But I wondered----"

"I did tell her we got worried one night, and tried to get into hispalace like a pair of brigands, " Billy answered slowly. 

"She must have thought us great fools, " the sandy-haired young manreplied disgustedly. Clearly he felt that Billy had flourished thisstory before Arlee to appear romantic, and he winced at itsabsurdity. 

"Oh, no--she just thought of it as a lark on our part, " Billy wenton. "I didn't let her in for the horrible details--I don't thinkshe's likely to mention it to you. Or you to her, " he added. 

"Rather not. " The young Englishman was emphatic. "I'm sorry you saidanything about it. " Then he looked at Billy, a crinkle of amusementin his eyes. "Rather a sell, you know--what?"

"I should say so!" returned Billy, with a hearty appearance ofchagrin, and a laugh cemented the understanding. 

That was all between them concerning the escapade. 

Billy had raced back to the boat, and secured an earnest fifteenminutes with Arlee, who promised unlimited care, and then forcedupon him the wretched sovereigns that she owed. She was feelingdesperately spent and tired after her day of excitement, anddeclared herself unequal to the dance upon the boat that evening. Anxiously Billy had urged her to rest, and he spent a drifting anddistracted evening roaming alone in the temple of Luxor listeningto the distant music from the boat--thinking of Arlee. .. . Later hehad learned that she remained up for at least two dances withFalconer. 

So much for Friday. Saturday had been worse. Arlee had said onFriday night that she would join the passengers in the all-dayexcursion to the Tombs of the Kings, and Billy had somehow foundhimself in an arrangement with Lady Claire and Falconer to go withthem. Then Arlee had not gone. Mrs. Eversham reported that she had aheadache, and Falconer had very promptly dropped out of the party, leaving Billy with Lady Claire upon his hands, and so he went, andhe and Lady Claire and the Evershams and about sixty otherpassengers had a brisk and busy day of it. When he returned justbefore dinner he saw Arlee, apparently headacheless, upon the deckof the steamer, chatting to Falconer. 

That night she had attended the dance at the hotel under MissFalconer's wing. Billy had danced with her twice, and between timeshis pride had kept him aloof--she might just have made one sign! Butthough her bright friendliness was ever responsive; though she wasinstantly, submissively, ready to accept his invitations or fulfillhis requests, he felt that there was something strangely lacking. 

The gay spark of her coquetry was gone; she did not tease or playwith him; animated as she was in company, when they were alonetogether a constraint fell upon her. 

Miserably he felt that he reminded her of unhappy scenes and thatshe would be secretly relieved when he was gone. 

So now he was absurdly glad to hear her declare, in answer to LadyClaire's questionings, "Oh, but the desert is wonderful! I loved itin spite of----"

"In spite of--?" Lady Claire echoed. 

"The sand, " said Arlee promptly. But under her lashes, her eyescame, at last, half-scared, to Billy's face. 

"But the sand _is_ the desert, " Lady Claire was murmuring. 

"It's only part of it, " Billy took it upon himself to answer. "Spaceis the biggest part--and then color. And sometimes--heat. "

"You spent quite a time on the desert edge with some excavators, didn't you?" said the English girl, and Billy fell into talk withher about his friend's work, and Falconer and his sister engrossedArlee. 

And to-night was the very last night of her stay at Luxor. To-morrowthe boat would take her on out of his life--unless he pursued heralong the Nile, a foolish, unwanted intruder. .. . The three days herehad all slipped from his clumsy grasp--they seemed to have put awidening distance between them. .. . He heard Falconer calculatingthat the boat would touch again at Luxor for the next Friday night. There seemed to be talk of a masked ball. .. . 

Billy leaned suddenly across the table. 

"You have forgotten it's the best of the moon to-night?" he asked. "You must let me take you to see it on Karnak. "

Falconer gave him a very blank look. 

"We've already planned for that, " said he. 

"We'll all go, " cried Arlee, with instant pleasantness. "We mustn'tmiss it for anything. "

"You haven't seen the moon on the temple yet?" Billy inquired ofLady Claire in the pause that ensued. 

"Only once--four nights ago. But it wasn't full then. "

Billy remembered that moon acutely. It had lighted two fugitivesacross a waste of sand. He saw a little figure swaying rhythmicallyhigh upon a camel, a quaint, old-world figure in misty white, with ashimmering silver veil--like Rebecca coming across the desert, hethought oddly. Then he looked up and saw a most modern figure inwhite across the table, nibbling a cress sandwich, and laughing atsome jest of the Englishman's. .. . 

With a start he realized that Lady Claire was waiting for an answer. 

"I beg your pardon. You asked----?"

"If _you_ had seen the temple in moonlight, Mr. Hill. "

"Not Karnak--only Luxor--night before last. "

"Only Luxor!" The girl beside him laughed. "How spoiled you are, Mr. Hill! _Only_ Luxor!"

It came to Billy, with the force of revelation, that it was going tobe _only_ a great many things for him after this. .. . Those wild daysin the desert had seen to that, with devastating completeness. .. . Girls were only other girls--and delight in them a lost word. Thischarming one beside him, with the friendly eyes where a faint shadowof wistfulness underlay the surface brightness, was only LadyClaire. .. . 

He wondered if he was going on like this forever. He wondered if hewas everlastingly to carry this memory about with him, like abullet. .. . Suddenly he felt enraged at himself, at his dumb pain anduseless longings, and with a stanch semblance of animation he flunghimself into the flow of talk which this pretty English girl was soready to offer him. 

CHAPTER XXII

UPON THE PYLON

Two miles of Sphinxes in the moonlight--a double row of them on eachside of the way from the temple of Luxor--and then a towering pylonoverhead. Karnak was reached. 

Out of the victoria jumped two young men in evening clothes, onesandy-haired with a slight moustache, the other black-haired andclean shaven, and handed out three ladies. The first lady wasmiddle-aged and haughty featured, in a black evening gown overhungwith a black and gold Assiout shawl; the second was a tall girl in arose cloak, the third was a small girl, and her cloak was a delicateblue. 

There was a pause at the pylon for the presentation of the littlered entrance books, and then the gate closed behind them, and thefive moved cautiously forward into the shadowy dark of the confusionof the ruins. Beside the blue-cloaked girl bent the sandy-hairedyoung man; the black-haired young man was between the rose-cloakedgirl and the lady with the Roman nose. 

"You must be our dragoman, Mr. Hill; I understand you are up on allthis, " said the lady, adhering closely to his side. "Where are wenow?"

"Temple of Khonsu, " said Billy with bitter brevity. Ahead of themArlee's blonde head was uptilted toward Falconer's remarks. 

"Khonsu? I never heard of him! Or is it her?" Lady Claire laughinglydemanded. 

"Khonsu is the son of the god, Amon, or Amon-Ra, and the goddess, Mut, and so is the third person of the trinity of Thebes, " Billypedagogically recited, his eyes on the little white shoes aheadpicking their delicate way over the fallen stones. "This temple atKarnak is the temple of the god Amon, and so it was natural for oldRameses the third to put the temple to Khonsu under the father'swing like this--but it spoils the effect of the entrance from thispylon. You don't get Karnak's bigness at a burst--but wait till youreach the court ahead. Then you'll see Karnak. "

And then they did see it--as much as one view can give of that vastdesolation. Ahead of them, shadowy and mysterious in the velvet darkand silver pallor of the stars, loomed the columns of the greatcourt, huge monoliths that dwarfed to pigmies the tiny groups ofpeople dotting the ground about them, trying to say somethingappropriate. 

The place had been made for dead and gone gods, giants of gods, andtheir spirits stalked now through its waste spaces, dominating andironic. There was an air about the place that seemed to scorn thefacile awe it woke in the breasts of the beholders and that fleeredat the human banalities upon their lips. 

"There are no words for a spot like this, " said a voice near them. 

"Silence is fittest, " corroborated a second voice. 

"Thomas Hardy once said, speaking of the heavens, " said the firstvoice again, "'There is a size at which dignity begins; farther onthere is a size at which grandeur begins; farther on there is a sizeat which solemnity begins; farther on a size at which awfulnessbegins; farther on a size at which ghastliness begins. ' Surely thatwas written unknowingly for this temple of Karnak?"

A fluttering murmur from the group confirmed this thought. 

"Nice little speech, " said Falconer in an undertone. 

The second voice was raised a trifle resentfully. "Yet was not thevery pith of it spoken by Ruskin when he stood upon this identicalspot? His words were these, 'At last size tells!'"

Another murmur agreed that it was indeed the pith. 

"That's Clara Eversham, " said Arlee under her breath. "They cameover early with some people from the boat. "

"She must be frightfully up on the guide books, " muttered Falconer. 

"She's a _miner_ in them, " Arlee laughed, as they made their wayover the rubbishy ground where great beams of stone and fallenstatues lay half-buried in the sands. 

"They must be very glad to have you back again with them, " Falconertold her, trying hard to keep their progress ahead of the others. 

"Oh, I don't know!" Honest dubiety spoke in Arlee's tone. "Theyhave mentioned twice how convenient it was to use my stateroom!"

"They felt very badly when you ran away from them in Cairo. "

"I was shockingly sudden about that, " owned the girl lightly, "butthe chance came--Are we going to climb the great pylon now?"

"It will be a jolly high place to see the moon rise. "

 * * * * *

It _was_ a jolly high place to see the moon rise, and to see allKarnak, and all Luxor, with its high Moslem minaret towering overits crumbling columns, and to see the dark and distant country withits tiny hamlets crouching under humbler mosques and lonely palms, and on the other side the wide and winding Nile with the shadowycliffs of Thebes beyond. It gave Arlee the dizzying sensation ofbeing suspended between heaven and earth, so high was she abovethose far-reaching plains, so high above the giant columns beneathher, the vast beamed roofs, the pointing obelisks. It made herbreath quicken and her pulses beat. 

"Watch the moon, " said Falconer in a low tone. 

Blood-red it rose behind the dark pile, throwing into sinisterrelief a gallows-like angle of stone beams, then higher and higherit soared till its resplendent light poured unchecked into the widecourts and broken temples, the unroofed altars and the emptyshrines. 

"A dead world lighting a dead world, " said Arlee under her breath. 

"I could read by it, " stated Miss Falconer impressively. 

Lady Claire glanced up at Billy with a touch of mischief. "Would youlike to paint it?" she suggested. 

"Heaven forbid!" said Billy soberly. 

Falconer said nothing at all, except to Arlee. He was very shrewdlydrawing her to the other end of the pylon, seeing that the time ofdescent was nearly upon them. And when the time arrived, and theEnglish ladies and their stoic escort started down the steep steps, Falconer made no motion of following them. He stood still, his handsin his pockets, and chuckled softly at the sound of his sister'svoice, floating lesseningly up to them. 

"How Emma is dragoning that William Whatdycallit Hill, " he saidappreciatively. 

"Why do you call him that?" questioned Arlee. 

"Oh, that chap is so deuced odd about that name of his. I asked himwhat the B. Stood for, and he looked me in the eye like a fightingcock and said for his middle name. .. . Queer chap--" SuddenlyFalconer looked sidewise at Arlee and stopped. 

"He is--unusual, " she agreed, moving toward the steps. 

The curious expression upon Falconer's face deepened. "Let 'em goon, " he said jerkily. "I don't want to leave this yet, do you?"

Arlee glanced about hesitantly, without answering, and slowly shelet fall the white froth of skirt she had been gathering for thedescent. 

In silence she looked out over the temple. The moon had paled fromfire to molten silver now, and like scattered sparks of it burnedthe thousand circling stars. She felt very strange and unreal--atiny figure topping this great gate in the face of the ancientsilence. .. . 

"We never have a chance for a word together, " Falconer was mumbling, with a nervous hand at his mustache. 

Her thoughts came fleetly back from the ancient worlds. .. . Her ownwas upon her. She turned and laughed at him. "We've talked for threewhole days!"

"Have we? But always in some group. .. . I understand that Hill toldyou what a couple of donkeys we made of ourselves on your account?"Anxiously he scanned her face, silver-clear in the moonlight, forsigns of ridicule. 

But Arlee's smile was very sweet. It made the sandy-haired youngman's heart quicken mysteriously. "He told me, " she said. "I thinkit was fine of you. "

"Fine? It was lunacy. .. . He'd got worked up over some horrible storyhe'd heard, " went on the young man in the mingling humor andembarrassment, "and nothing for it but that you'd gone the same way. And if you'll believe it, he had us prowling around that old palacelike a pair of jolly idiots primed to get their heads blown off--andserved us jolly well right! He was in luck to get off with nothingbut a scratch. "

"A scratch--? You mean--you _don't_ mean----?"

"He didn't tell you that?" Falconer was surprised; he had imaginedthat Billy's narration had led romantically to Billy's wound. Hemade the American a silent apology. "He was shot in the arm. "

"Badly?"

"Of course not badly--he's all right now, isn't he? He said it was ascratch. "

Arlee was silent. He had been hurt all the time that he had beenriding with her over the desert . .. He had been hurt all throughthose horrible hot hours. And he had said nothing. .. . 

"When I think of what that chap got me in for--scaling a man'swalls, smashing in his locks, letting myself down the front of hishouse like a monkey on a rope! I might have been a dashed school kidagain. " Resentment and reluctant humor struggled in the young man'sspeech. "Why, the fellow has the imagination of a detective . .. Andof course he had some reason. " Falconer's thoughts touched on thefair-haired girl of Fritzi's report. "I'll admit he had meworried--until I heard from the Evershams that you were all O. K. Yousee what bally nonsense you put into young men's heads, " he addedwith a look of meaning. 

"He's a very--chivalrous--young man, " said Arlee. 

"He's a very unbalanced young idiot, " contradicted Falconer. "Irather like the chap, himself, you know; he has nerve to spare--butno ballast. He might have set all Cairo talking of you. " His voicehardened; "I told him that. I told him you wouldn't thank him forit. "

"I do thank him. I thank him with all my heart. "

"Well, you've no reason to, " Falconer returned in blunt belief. "Linking your name with that Turk fellow; hinting you were in thepalace--he might have started a lot of rotten rumor!"

"What's--rumor?" said the girl in a breathless voice. "He wasthinking of--my safety!"

"Well, your safety didn't depend on him, did it?" Sharp jealousy ofher defense of the American intruder drove Falconer to unseemlycurtness. He gave a short laugh. "You and I, " he said, "seem to bealways tilting over some chap or other. "

A faint smile touched the girl's lips, a sorry little smile, edgedwith rueful reminiscence . .. And strange comparisons. In silence shelooked down into the shadowy temple courts where absurdlysmall-looking people were strolling to and fro, while Falconer stoodlooking down at her, with something akin to angry wonder in hisadoring eyes. 

"Why didn't you write to a chap?" he abruptly demanded. 

"Why should I?"

"Then you meant to let it go at that?" He drew a sharp breath. "Justthe way you flared off from that table--not a word more?"

"Why didn't you write?" the girl parried. 

"I did, " indignantly. "Twice--to Alexandria. "

"Oh. .. . I didn't get them. "

"I wrote, all right. I was so stirred up over that alarm of Hill'sthat I urged you to answer me at once. And when you didn't, and whenI heard you _had_ written the Evershams, well, I thought I knew whatI had to think. .. . When I met you here Friday I half expected you tocut me, upon my word!"

"But I didn't!" She laughed softly. "I remembered you--perfectly. "

"Oh, you did, did you?. .. You've acted as if that was about all youdid remember. "

"I've been very, _very_ nice to you!"

"But with a difference, " he insisted resentfully. "Didn't you know Imust have written? You didn't think I wanted to let it stop there, did you? You didn't think I meant that nonsense at tea----"

"Please don't go back to that, " said the girl hurriedly. "We've beengood friends these three days without bringing it up--don't let usdo it now. "

"Well, I don't enjoy thinking about it. " His voice was sharp withfeeling. "You gave me the most miserable time of my life. "

"I was very horrid. "

"You told me you didn't give a _piastre_ for what I thought!"

"I said I didn't give half a _piastre_!" murmured Arleeirrepressibly, with a wicked dimple. 

Reluctantly he grinned. "Well?" he put to her questioningly. 

"Well?"

Their eyes met, sparkling, combative. 

"You do, don't you?"

"What?"

"You do give a _piastre_ for what I----"

"I'm afraid I do. I'm afraid I give a good many _piastres_ for whateveryone thinks. " The girl's smile had suddenly faded; her eyeslowered and sought the far horizons. 

In the silence he came a little closer to her. "Then Arlee--Arlee, dear----"

She started, and turned hurriedly. "We must go down----"

"Why must we?"

"They'll be waiting. "

"Let 'em. They'll be glad of the chance if they can get away fromEmma. .. . I want to talk to you. "

"I think Mr. Hill is quite as nice as Lady Claire, " flashed Arlee ina childish voice. 

"Claire seems to agree with you. " Falconer spoke lightly, butunderneath sounded the note of the disgruntled male . .. Resentful ofthe defection of even the girls he left behind him. He added, withhis fatal gift of truculent expression, "But that's perfectlyabsurd. "

"Why absurd?" Arlee's voice held careful calm. The flash in her eyeswas hidden. 

Falconer made a gesture of extreme exasperation. To waste theseprecious moonlight moments in trifling debate was the very height ofmaddening futility. 

"Oh, the chap's a feather-headed adventurer. What's the use oftalking about him?. .. But that's aside the mark. I want----"

"You mustn't call him an adventurer!" The flash was far from hiddennow. Her wide eyes blazed challenge at the disconcerted young man. "It's not fair. It's not true. "

"Oh, I don't mean it in any--any _financial_ sense, " the harassedFalconer gave back. "But you can't expect me to take him seriouslyafter his exploits in Cairo? He's flighty. He goes off like arocket. He has illusions--but----"

"If you are going to slander him because of what he did for me--"Arlee's voice was shaking. 

"Oh, can't you see that's the key to his character!"

"Yes, I do see it. " She sounded triumphant now. For a moment hereves met his full of bright defiance; she hung fire, half scared, then blazed into her revelation. 

"_For I was in that palace. _"

"What? What?" Falconer questioned in sheer vacancy of shock. 

"I said--I was in that palace, Kerissen's palace. "

"_What!_" came from him again, but now in twenty differentintonations, with absolute incredulity struggling for dominance. 

Desperately she rushed on, her voice shaken but passionate. 

"I tell you it is so. He got me there by a trick, a call upon hissister. And he kept me by another trick, pretending a quarantine. Iwas trapped there. The messages and all the Alexandria story wereKerissen's frauds. He wanted to marry me. I'd have been thereto-night if it hadn't been for Billy Hill--that adventurer, as youcall him!"

It was impossible. It was unthinkable. Falconer stood staring downat this girl whose white, upturned face, so amazingly ethereal andchildish, met his astounded gaze with unfaltering fixity, and fromhis stiff lips dropped disjointed words and phrases, ejaculations ofdenial, of disbelief. 

She swept them utterly aside in her complete affirmation. "It's alltrue--every bit. "

"You--in that man's palace!" He was very pale, but into her whiteface there surged a sudden flood of color, crimsoning it from browto throat. 

"He didn't--hurt me, " she stammered. "He was--quite mad--but hedidn't--hurt me. "

She heard Falconer draw his breath with a queer, whistling sound. Hepushed back his hat and drew his hand over his forehead. 

"It's--impossible, " he persisted thickly, but there was bitterrelief in his voice. "The blackguard--the filthy blackguard!"

"Don't, don't, please don't! I can't bear to think of him. I've donewith even the thought of him. .. . He was trying to make me marry him. I told you he was quite mad. "

Sharply Falconer pulled himself together, in the tense effort tomeet this horrible astonishment like a man. 

"And Hill got you out?"

"Yes. .. . He got me out. "

"But the Evershams--they don't know----?"

"No, no, I've told no one. I'm not going to tell anyone. No oneknows of it but you and me--and Billy Hill. "

"That's right. " He drew another long breath, this time in sharprelief. The color was coming back to his face, splotching itunevenly. "You mustn't tell anyone. You don't know how a beastlything like that would spread. You mustn't let anyone have a hint. Not even my sister. "

Arlee's eyes were in shadow. Her voice came slowly. "They wouldthink so badly of me?"

"No--not of you--but it's the kind of thing, the impossiblethings--A girl simply can't afford----"

"She can't afford to have even speculation against her, " Arleefinished quietly, but a little pulse in her throat was beating awaylike mad. She knew he spoke the simple truth, but the taste of itwas bitter as gall to her mouth. However she had humbled herself insecret self-communion, she had known no such shame as this. .. . Shefelt cheapened . .. Tarnished. .. . 

"It's beastly--but she can't, " he jerkily agreed, but with evidentrelief at her sensible understanding. Perhaps he had rememberedBilly's fearful prophecy of the conversation with which theadventure would supply her. "But of course nobody has a notion----"

"Not a notion. And I shan't give them any--not till I'm awhite-haired old lady in Mechlin caps, and _then_ I shall make upfor lost time by boring all my world with the story of my romanticyouth and the wild deeds done for me!" She laughed airily, pridehigh in her face, hiding her secret hurts. 

"And Hill got you out, " Falconer repeated, with a sudden twinge ofjealous envy in his young voice. "He--he's a lucky one. "

"_I'm_ the lucky one, " Arlee flashed. "Think of the glorious luckfor me that sent him to paint there, outside the palace, where amaid mistook him, and so gave a message. Why, it was a chance in amillion, in ten million--and it happened!"

"Happened?" Falconer looked at her a minute before continuing. Thenhe asked quietly, "He told you that he just--happened--there?"

"Yes, he said by accident. He was painting----"

Now Falconer was an honest young man--and a gentleman. Deliberatelyhe brushed away his rival's generous subterfuge. "He doesn't paint, "he told her. "He did that for an excuse--for a reason to stayoutside the palace. No chance directed it. "

"Why, how--how did he know? Before----"

"He guessed. He was uneasy from the beginning--he made conjecturesand set himself to verify them. "

After a moment, "I never knew--_that_!" said Arlee in slow wonder. 

"Well, you know now, " returned Falconer with a sense of grim justiceto the man he had belittled. 

In the silence the girl moved toward the steps. He made a gesture tostay her. 

"You're not going--yet?"

"Yet?" she echoed, faintly mocking. "It's _hours_. "

"But--but we can never see this again, " he argued, weakly, parryingwith himself. 

"We won't--forget it. "

The words held a too-keen prophecy for him. He looked at her inheart-beating uncertainty, and it seemed to him that all his futurewas waiting on that moment. Should he speak? Should he utter thatwhich had been so near utterance when her astounding revelation hadstopped him?. .. After all, he knew nothing of her--but that she waslovely and wilful and enchanting--with a capacity for risk--and adire disregard of consequences. .. . She was volatile, unstable, bewildering--so he thought stiffeningly as he looked at her, but helooked too long. 

She was the very spirit of loveliness in the silver moon, her haira crown of light, her eyes deep with shadowy wistfulness, her lipshalf sad, half tender. .. . He felt the blood burn hot in his face, and took a quick step to bar the way. 

"You must wait to hear what I was saying, " he said, with a ring ofnew command. 

She gave him a sudden, startled look, and moved as if to pass him. 

"You were saying--nothing, " she answered proudly. 

"I was saying--everything, " he gave back incoherently. "Oh, Arlee, do you think that story stops me! Don't you know--how much I wantyou?" and with sudden vehemence he bent to clasp her in his arms. 

CHAPTER XXIII

THE BETTER MAN

Down in the court of Rameses, Lady Claire and Hill were straying. Amost opportune old bachelor, passing with a party of acquaintances, had diverted even Emma Falconer from her dragoning, and the youngEnglish girl and her American escort were left for the time to theirown devices. 

Not much was said. Claire, who had been fitfully gay all afternoon, grew still as a church mouse now as they paced back and forth in theshadows, stealing a slant glance from time to time at Billy's setand silent face. She wondered a little at his absorption. Butchiefly she was thinking that she had never seen him look sohandsome . .. With his brows knitted and his clear-cut lips pressedsharply together . .. But the boy of him somehow kept by that wilfullock of black hair over his forehead. 

To Billy it seemed that the bitterest drop of the cup was at hislips. Those two--upon the pylon--were they never coming down? He waswaiting for them in every nerve, and yet he shrank from the look hemight read upon their faces. He thought, very grimly, that thiscould mean but one thing, and that thing was the end forever andever, for him. .. . His heart was sick in him and he longed mostdesperately to break away from these other women and the sham oftalk and dash off to dark solitude where the primitive man couldhave his way, could tramp and fight and curse and sob and break hisheart in decent privacy. He faced with loathing the refinements oftorture which civilization imposes. 

But the game had to be played. He was no quitter, he told himselffiercely; he could stand up and take his punishment like a man. Shewas not for him. He had loved her from the first, he had loved herso that he had been clairvoyant to her peril, he had risked his neckfor her a dozen times and snatched her from a life that was adeath-in-life--and yet she was not for him. She was for a man whohad not believed in her danger, had not bestirred himself. .. . Black, seething bitterness was boiling in Billy B. Hill. Darkly, through afog, he heard the outer man replying to some speech from the girlbeside him. 

He understood, he told himself in a burst of despairing anguish, howKerissen could have plotted for her. Almost he longed to be ascrupleless Oriental and carry her off across his saddle bow. .. . Andthen he brought himself up short. 

Was that all she meant to him, he asked himself with the sweat ofpain on his forehead beneath that black lock which was finding suchfavor in Lady Claire's eyes--was that all she meant to him?--a prizeto be won? One man had tried to steal her; he had wished to _earn_her--but she was a gift beyond all price and the giving lay in herown heart alone. .. . And if Falconer was the man for her, then atleast he, Billy B. Hill, was man enough to stand up and be glad forher and be humbly grateful to the end of his days that he had beenable to save her . .. And give her her happiness. For it was reallyhe who had given it to her. And in that thought Billy Hill's youngheart expanded, and his soul stretched itself to such unwontedheights that it seemed to push among the stars. 

 * * * * *

"It is an unforgettable night, " said the girl in the rose cloak. 

He thought that was just the word for it, and a wryly humorous glintwas in the look he gave her. And he thought that she, too, wasplaying the game mighty stanchly, and had been playing it bravelythese three days, since her conquering little rival had made herreappearance. His heart warmed toward her in understanding andcompassion. They were comrades in affliction. He was not the onlyone in the world who was not getting the heart's desire. 

Aloud he answered, "And the last night for me. "

Lady Claire looked up quickly. Her voice showed her struck withsudden surprise. "You are going--so soon?"

"To-morrow. "

"To Assouan?" Odd sharpness edged the question. 

He waited a perceptible moment, though his resolution had beentaken. "Back to Cairo. "

"Oh . .. How long shall you be there?"

"Just till I get sailings. It's time for me to be off. I'm really aworking person, you know, not a playing one. "

"You make bridges--and dams--and things, don't you?" she questionedvaguely. 

"Bridges--and dams--and things. "

"Why don't you wait here for your sailings?" she asked impersonallyafter another pause. "It's so _much_ more attractive here thanCairo. "

"I'd like to. " He thought of next Friday--and Arlee's return--andthe masked ball. For a moment temptation urged. Then he threw backhis head with a gesture of decision. "But I can't. It's impossible. "

Now Lady Claire did not know that he was thinking of nextFriday--and Arlee's return--and the masked ball. She only knew thathe spoke with a curious fierceness, and that his eyes were verybright. And something in the girl, something strange andacknowledged that had been so fitfully gay and light these threedays, quickened in mysterious excitement. 

"Nothing is impossible, " she gave back, "to a _man_!"

Billy thought she was resenting the conventions of the restrictedsex. She could not make any open advance toward Falconer while he, as man, could make all the open advances to Arlee he was willingto--but in this case his hands were tied. A man cannot inflicthimself upon a girl who may not feel herself free to reject him. Helaughed, with sorry ruefulness. 

"There's a whole lot, " he observed, "that is impossible to a man whotries to be one, " and then, oblivious of any construction she mightchoose to put upon this cryptic utterance, he strolled moodily on, in brooding silence. 

After a pause, "Of course, " said Lady Claire in so gentle a littlevoice that it seemed to glide undisturbingly among his silentmeditations, "of course, a man has his--pride. "

"I hope so, " said the young man briefly. He understood her to beprobing for his reason for abandoning the chase; he understood thatfor her own sake she would like to see him successful with Arlee, and he was queerly sorry to be failing to help her there. But he haddone all that he could. .. . 

The girl spoke again, her face straight ahead, her shadowy eyesstaring out into the moonlight. "Is it--money?" she said in the samelittle breath of a voice. 

"Money!" Billy threw back the words in surprise, half contemptuous, "Oh, Lord, no, it's not _money_! I haven't much of it _now_, but I'mgoing to make a bunch of the stuff--if I want to. " He spoke withnaïve and amazing confidence which somehow struck astounded beliefinto the listener. "There's enough of it there, waiting to bemade--no, it's not money--though perhaps one might well think itought to be. I suppose my work might strike a girl as hard for her, "he went on, considering aloud these problems of existence, "for it'shere to-day and there to-morrow--now doing a building in a roaringcity and now damming up some reservoir deep in the mountains--but italways seemed to me that the girl who would like me would like that, too. It's seeing so much of life--and such real life! Oh, no, " hesaid, and though a trace of doubt had struck into his voice, "thatin itself wouldn't be what I'd call impossible--not for the rightgirl. "

"But your work--would it always be in America?" said Lady Claire. 

"Oh, always. It has to be, of course. "

"Oh. .. . And--and--you--have to have--that work?"

"Why, of course, I have to have it!" Billy was bewildered, butentirely positive. "That's _my_ work--the thing I'm made to do. _I_couldn't earn my salt selling apartment houses. "

"Oh, no, no, " the girl hurriedly agreed. 

A long, long silence followed, a silence in which he was entirelyoblivious to her imaginings. The moonlight lay heavy as dreams aboutthem; her thoughts went darting to and fro like flutteringswallows. .. . She felt herself a stranger to herself. .. . She lookedup at him with a sudden deer-like lift of her head, and then lookedswiftly away. 

"Don't go, " she said in a quick, low voice. "Don't go--yet. Eventhings that look impossible--can be made to come right. "

He understood that she was pleading with him, partly for the sake ofher own chance with Falconer, but the sympathy flicked him on theraw. He was sorry for her, sorry for the queer, strained look in herface, sorry for the voice so full of feeling, but he couldn't doanything to help her. 

In silence he shook his head and was astounded at the look of suddenproud anger she darted at him. 

"You're a mighty real friend to take such an interest in my luck, "he said quickly, with warm liking in his voice, "and I only wish youcould play fairy godmother and give me my wish--but you can't, LadyClaire, and apparently _she_ won't, and that is the end of thematter. I have to take off my hat to the Better Man. "

Lady Claire did not gasp or stammer or question. She did none of thedismayedly enlightening things into which a lesser poise might havetottered. After an inconsiderable moment of silence she merelyuttered her familiar, "Oh!" and uttered it in a voice in which somany things were blended that their elements could hardly beperceived. 

She added hurriedly, "I'm sorry if I've seemed to--to intrude intoyour affairs. "

"My affairs are on my sleeve, " answered Billy and wondered at thequick look she gave him. 

"Oh, no--not at all, " she answered a little breathlessly. "I'm surethey haven't seemed so to me--but then I'm stupid. " She stopped fora moment of hot wonder at that stupidity. She had not believed MissFalconer--had thought her prejudiced . .. Maneuvering. .. . Likelightning she reviewed the baffling interchange of sentences, thenglanced up at Billy's silent absorption. She felt queerly gratefulfor his innocent density. "And perhaps _she's_ stupid, too, " shetold him. "You'd better make sure. You'd better make absolutely_sure_. "

He looked down on her with sorry humor in his face. "Do I need tomake _surer_?" He nodded in the direction of the giant gateway. "They've had time to settle the divisions of the Balkans up there. "

"Oh, yes, they've had time!" She seemed speaking at sudden laughingrandom. "But _we've_ had the same time and you see we haven'tsettled anything with it--not even that you're to stay. Yes, you'dbetter make _sure_, Mr. Hill. "

Billy was hardly heeding. A laugh had caught his ears, a light highlaugh like the tinkle of a little silver bell through the darkness. In the shadows behind them he made out a man and a woman arm in arm. 

"Just a moment, " he begged of Lady Claire. "May I leave you here amoment? I must see those--I think I know----" Without listening toher automatic permission he was gone. 

The next moment he had laid his hand on the arm of the man with thewoman. Both spun quickly about. A babble of explanation broke out. 

"_Ach, mein freund, mein freund_----"

"Oh, it is Billy----"

"How _gut_ to find you here----"

"Our American Billy. "

The last voice, piquantly foreign, was the voice of Fritzi Baroff. And the first voice gutterally foreign was the voice of Frederickvon Deigen. Arm in arm, flushed, happy, sentimental, the two begantalking in a breath, thanking Billy for the letter he had sent vonDeigen which had brought them together, and apologizing for theirhasty flight--"a honeymoon upon the Nile, " the German joyfullyexplained. 

Discreetly Billy forbore to make any discoveries as to the exactstatus of their "honeymoon. " The German's face was very honestlyhappy, and the little dancer was brimming with restless life andvivacity. 

"It was the picture in my watch--_hein_? The picture I carry nightand day, " Frederick repeated in needless explanation, and was aboutto draw out the picture when Billy restrained him. 

He had a favor to ask. The American girl of Kerissen's palace hadescaped unharmed and returned to her friends who were ignorant ofall. She was this moment in the ruins. It would be a great shock toher to meet Fritzi, to have Fritzi recognize her. On the morning shewould be gone. Would Fritzi----"

"Fritzi must disappear--for the night?" said the little Viennesesmiling wisely, but with a trace of cynicism. "The little Americanmust not be reminded--h'm? We will go. .. . For you have done so muchfor me, you big, strange, platonic Mr. Billy!" Dazzlingly she smiledon him, her dark eyes quizzically provocative. 

"You're not at the Grand?"

"No, not that. " She named another. "You come see me, when that girlgoes--h'm?"

Billy caught the German's eyes upon him, in their depths a fainttrouble, a vague appeal. He comprehended that the infatuated youngman had engaged in the tortuous business of keeping sparks fromtinder. 

"I'm gone to-morrow, " he replied. 

"Maybe in Vienna?" went on the dancer. "We go soon--another day orso maybe--and then back over the water to that life I left! Oh, myGod, how happy I am to go back to it all--to dance, to sing--Oh, Icould kiss you, Mr. Billy, if it would not make you so shock!" sheadded with a malicious little laugh. "You know the news--about_him_--h'm?"

"Him?"

"Kerissen--that devil fellow. He is in Cairo with a fever--in thehospital there. A man who come from that hospital just tellsus--just by accident he tell us. A _bad_ fever, too!" She laughed insatisfaction. "I hope he burn good and hard up, " she added, withenergetic spite, "and teach him not to act like a wild man. That mansay he got a bad hand, " she added, with a shrewd glance at Billy. 

The young man merely grunted. "I hope he has, " he replied. "Itmatches the rest of him. Good night. "

"Good night--for the now--h'm, Mr. Billy?" and with a quick littleclasp of his big hand and a gay little backward look the girl wasgone into the shadows upon the arm of her jealous cavalier. 

Three people were waiting at the statue foot where he had left theEnglish girl. 

"They've come at last, Mr. Hill, " Lady Claire's voice struck verygaily upon him, "and Miss Falconer has just come to tell us we mustsee the colored lights in the great court--and then go home. Sohurry!"

She turned as she spoke and put her arm suddenly through Falconer'swho was standing next her. "Come on, " she lightly commanded, andpromptly led the way. 

That was something like a fairy godmother! Into Billy's eyes flasheda warm light of gladness. Some moments out of that wretched eveningshould yet be his own, bitter-sweet as they were in their sharpfinality. 

He turned to the blue-cloaked figure at his side. "Do you likecolored fire?" he demanded. "Won't you come and see somethingelse--something I've wanted to see and to have you see with me? It'snear the way out. We can meet them at the pylon. "

Of course she acquiesced. That was part of the cursed restraintbetween them, he was reminded, to have her accept so obediently anypoint-blank request of his. But for the nonce he was glad. He wantedthose few minutes desperately. 

"What is it?" she murmured. 

"I'll show you, " and then, as he turned from the way they had comeand followed a winding path that dipped lower and lower between thedune-like piles of sand, "It's the Sacred Lake, " he explained. "Perhaps you've seen it in the daytime--but I've been wanting to seeit at night. "

"I think I just caught the glint of it from the pylon, " sheobserved. 

"You had time to, " said Billy, trying to twinkle down at her infriendly fashion. 

She did not twinkle back. She looked as suddenly guilty as a kittenin the cream, and Billy's heart smote him heavily. He did not speakagain till they had rounded a corner and their path had brought themout upon the shore of the Sacred Lake. 

Like a little horseshoe it circled about three sides of the ruinedtemple of the goddess Mut, inky-black and motionless with the starslooking up uncannily like drowned lights from its still waters, andinky-black and motionless, like guardian spirits about it, sat ahundred cat-headed women of grim granite. It was a spot of starkloneliness and utter silence, of ancient terror and desolateabandonment; the solitude and the blackness and the aching age smoteupon the imagination like a heavy hand upon harp strings. 

"Who are--they?" Arlee spoke in a hushed voice, as if the cat-headedwomen were straining their ears. 

"They're mysteries, " said Billy, speaking in the same low tone. "Generally they're said to be statues of the Goddess Pasht orSehket--but it's a riddle why the Amen-hotep person who built thistemple to the goddess Mut should have put Sehket here. Sehket is inthe trinity of Memphis--and Mut in that of Thebes. And so somepeople say that this is not Pasht at all, but Mut herself, who wassometimes represented as lion-headed. Between a giant cat and alion, you know, there's not much of difference. "

"I like Pasht better than Mut, " said Arlee decidedly. 

"There you agree with Baedecker. "

"What did Pasht do?"

"She was goddess of girls, " said Billy, "and young wives. She gotthe girls husbands and the wives--er--their requests. Girls used tocome down here at night and make a prayer to her and cast anoffering into the waters. "

"And then they had their prayer?"

"Infallibly. "

"I'd like a guardian like that, " said Arlee, with a suddenmischievous wistfulness that played the dickens with Billy's forcesof reserve. "Do you think she'd grant _my_ prayer?"

"Have you one to make?" said Billy, staring very hard for safety atthe monstrous images. 

"They look as if they were coming alive, " he added. 

The moon had come up over an obstructing roof and now flashed downupon them; a ripple of light began to swim across the star-eyes inthe inky waters; a finger of quicksilver seemed to be playing overthe scarred faces of the granite goddesses. 

"They never died, " said Arlee positively. "They're just waitingtheir time. Can't you see they know all about us?. .. Theyparticularly know that you are the most deceiving young man theyever saw! Why didn't you tell me you were shot in the arm?" shefinished rapidly. 

"What?. .. Where did you hear that?"

"Mr. Falconer enlightened me. "

"I wish Falconer would keep his stories to himself, " said Billyungratefully. "It's just a----"

"Scratch, " said Arlee promptly. "That's always a hero's word forit. "

Billy turned scarlet. He felt hot back to his ears. 

"And why did you tell me that you _happened_ to be painting outsidethe palace?" went on the unsparing voice. "You let me think it wasall accident--and it was all you, just _you_!"

"Good Lord, " groaned Billy, effecting merriment over hisdiscomfiture, "Is there anything else he told you?. .. Look here, youshouldn't have been talking about it, " he said with sudden anxiety. 

Arlee smiled. "It's all over, " she said. "I told him everything. "

Billy's heart missed a beat, and then hurried painfully to make upfor it. He felt a curious constriction in his throat. He tried tothink of something congratulatory to say and was lamentably silent. 

"Why did you deceive me so?" she continued mercilessly. "Because mygratitude was so _obnoxious_ to you? Were you so afraid I wouldinsist upon flinging more upon you?"

"That's a horrid word, obnoxious, " said Billy painfully. 

"I thought so, " thrust in a pointed voice. 

"I only meant, " he slowly made out, "that a sense of--of obligationis a stupid burden--and I didn't want you to feel you had to be anymore friendly to me than your heart dictated. That is all. It wasenough for me to remember that I had once been privileged to helpyou. "

"You--funny--Billy B. Hill person, " said the voice in a very serioustone. Billy continued staring at the unwinking old goddess ahead ofhim. "You take it all so for granted, " laughed Arlee softly, "As ifit were part of any day's work! I go about like a girl in adream--or a girl _with_ a dream . .. A dream of fear, of old palacesand painted women and darkened windows. It comes over me at nightsometimes. And then I wake and could go down on my knees to you. .. . I suppose there isn't any more danger from him?" she broke off tohalf-whisper quickly. 

"He's sick in the Cairo hospital, " Billy made haste to inform her. "I found out by accident. I understand he has a bad fever. So Ithink he'll be up to no more tricks--and I'm out the satisfactionof a little heart-to-heart talk. "

"Oh, I told you you couldn't, " she cried quickly. "You would makehim too angry. He isn't just--sane. "

"Then all I have to do in Egypt is to hunt up my little Imp, " saidBilly. "I must see the little chap again--before I go. "

He waited--uselessly as he had foretold. She said nothing, and ifthe glance he felt upon him was of inquiry he did not look about tomeet it. He was still staring a saturnine Pasht out of countenance. There was a pause. 

Then, "However were you able to think of it all?" said Arlee in slowwonder. "However were you able to think such an impossible thoughtas my imprisonment?"

"Because I was thinking about you, " said Billy. Suddenly his tongueran away with him. "Incessantly, " he added. 

She looked up at him. Unguardedly he looked down at her. No one buta blind girl or a goose could have mistaken that look upon Billy B. Hill's young face, the frustrate longing of it, the deep desire. Theheart beneath the sky-blue cloak cast off a most monstrousaccumulation of doubts and fears and began suddenly to beat likemad. 

Totally unexpectedly, startlingly amazing, she flung out at him, "Then what made you stop?"

"Stop?" he echoed. "Stop? I've never stopped! There hasn't been amoment----"

"There have been three days. Three--horrible--days!"

"Arlee!"

"Do you think I _like_ being snubbed and ignoredand--and--obliterated?" she brought indignantly out. "Do you think Icall that--being friends?"

"I--I wanted to leave you free--not to force your friendship----" hestammered wildly. 

"You couldn't force _mine_, " said Arlee Beecher. 

"But--but there was Falconer, " he protested. "You had to be freeto--to have a choice----"

"A choice? Do you call that a _choice_?"

"I thought you were making it. That first night----"

"I stayed up to dance with _you_, " she cried hotly. "You never cameback!"

"But the next day----"

"I _wanted_ to go. But I couldn't keep up any more. I _had_ torest. .. . And you went with Lady Claire!"

"Why, I had to! We'd planned. But when we came back, he was on deckwith you----"

"Yes, and I was waiting up--to see _you_. And you only took twodances that night----"

"You didn't seem to want me to----"

"I never guessed you wanted them! _I_ had my pride, too. I wasn'tgoing to be in the way--because you'd rescued me. I thought youdidn't want me in the way!"

"Arlee--my girl--my precious girl----"

"No, I'm not. I'm not. "

"Yes, you are, " he said fiercely. "I don't care if you are engagedto Falconer or not, I'm going to tell you so. "

"I'm not engaged to Falconer, " she protested. 

He blurted in bewilderment. "Then what in the world were you doingup there on that pylon?"

Her elfish laughter disconcerted him. "Do you think one has to getengaged if she stays on a pylon?. .. We were getting _not_ engaged. "

"I thought--I thought you liked him, " he said bewilderedly. 

"I did. I do, I mean--but not that way. He--he--Oh, I really _like_him, " she cried tremulously, "but not--we've had it all out andeverything's all over. I'm sorry--sorry--but he'll be really gladbye and bye. For my story shocked him terribly. .. . And then there'sLady Claire. He didn't like to have her down with you even when hewas up with me. " She laughed softly. "Oh, I shouldn't have let himbe so friendly here but I did like him and you--you were so--sohateful. "

The moon and stars whirled giddily around him as he put his armsabout her. Like a man in a dream he drew her to him. 

"I love you--love you, " he said huskily over the bright maze ofhair. 

"You don't!" came with muffled intensity from the hidden lips. "Yousaid to that man--when I was in that cave--'Nothing doing!'"

"It wasn't his affair--I hadn't a hope. .. . Oh, my dear, my dear, I've been breaking my heart----"

"And I've had such a perfectly h-hateful three days, " sobbed thevoice. 

His arms closed tighter about her, incredible of their happiness. 

"Oh, Arlee, I can't tell you--I haven't words----"

"I've had _deeds_!" she whispered. 

Through his rocking mind darted a memory of her earlier speech tohim. "You said you didn't want words. Arlee--_will you_?"

She flung back her head and looked up at him, her face a flower, hereyes like stars tangled in the bright mist of her hair. 

"Billy, what's your middle name?"

"Bunker. .. . I can't help it, dear. They wished it on me and asked menot to let it go. But _Bunker Hill_----!"

"It's a wonderful name, Billy! A perfectly irresistible name!" Hereyes laughed up at him through a dazzle of tears, and prankishlyover her curving lips hovered a mischievous dimple. "It's aname--that--I--simply--can't--do--without--Billy Bunker Hill!"

The dimple deepened then fled before its just deserts. For if ever adimple deserved to be caught and kissed that was the one.