ometimes far away from
anything in the very midst of the waterless, trackless desert, I see
'ruins' marked upon it--or 'remains of a temple,' perhaps. For example,
the temple of Jupiter Ammon, which was one of the most considerable
shrines in the world, was hundreds of miles from anywhere. Those are the
ruins, solitary, unseen, unchanging through the centuries, which appeal
to one's imagination. But when I present a check at the door, and go
in as if it were Barnum's show, all the subtle feeling of romance goes
right out of it."

"Absolutely!" said Cecil Brown, looking over the desert with his dark,
intolerant eyes. "If one could come wandering here alone--stumble upon
it by chance, as it were--and find one's self in absolute solitude in
the dim light of the temple, with these grotesque figures all around, it
would be perfectly overwhelming. A man would be prostrated with wonder
and awe. But when Belmont is puffing his bulldog pipe, and Stuart is
wheezing, and Miss Sadie Adams is laughing----"

"And that jay of a dragoman speaking his piece," said Headingly; "I want
to stand and think all the time, and I never seem to get the chance.
I was ripe for manslaughter when I stood before the Great Pyramid, and
couldn't get a quiet moment because they would boost me on to the top.
I took a kick at one man which would have sent _him_ to the top in one
jump if I had hit meat. But fancy travelling all the way from America to
see the pyramid, and then finding nothing better to do than to kick an
Arab in front of it!"

The Oxford man laughed in his gentle, tired fashion.

"They are starting again," said he, and the two hastened forwards to
take their places at the tail of the absurd procession.

Their route ran now among large, scattered boulders, and between stony,
shingly hills. A narrow, winding path curved in and out amongst the
rocks. Behind them their view was cut off by similar hills, black and
fantastic, like the slag-heaps at the shaft of a mine. A silence fell
upon the little company, and even Sadie's bright face reflected the
harshness of Nature. The escort had closed in, and marched beside them,
their boots scrunching among the loose black rubble. Colonel Cochrane
and Belmont were still riding together in the van.

[Illustration: A silence fell upon the little company p72]

"Do you know, Belmont," said the Colonel, in a low voice, "you may think
me a fool, but I don't like this one little bit."

Belmont gave a s