you were very rash, Mike!"

"It's probably only physical exhaustion. He couldn't eat anything, but
he drank the water I gave him. I poured a little brandy in it--he
wouldn't have touched it if he had known."

"Oh, wouldn't he?" Millicent's voice expressed her disbelief.

"The Koran forbids the drinking of spirits."

Millicent laughed. "You wouldn't think so when you pass the native
cafes in Cairo! I thought you said they lived up to the letter of
their religion, and missed the spiritual essence of it?"

"There are Moslems and Moslems. Do we all live up to the spirit of
Christ's teachings? Have you always seen Christ-like Christians?"

Millicent shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I don't pretend to live up to
the spirit of my religion. There's the comforting reflection of a
death-bed repentance for all Christians--it's never to late to mend,
Mike!"

"What about battle and murder and sudden death?"

"I take that risk. But, honestly, dear, are you going to adopt that
fanatic, take him on with you?"

"I'm going to look after him until he's better," Michael said, "if
that's what you mean."

"You've got one _protege_ in el-Azhar. I wonder where this one will
find his home?"

"He will be all right in the morning. Some food and sleep will set him
on his way again." Michael's eyes expressed the fact that his thoughts
had travelled to Millicent's own position in his camp. She had wished
to avoid this; she had tried to obliterate her own personality. Her
desire was to let Mike get pleasantly accustomed to her companionship,
to her place in his camp, to her harmless presence. She felt certain
that if she could manage it for a day or two, he would let things
slide. It was his nature to drift.

The evening was almost at its close; night was drawing near. The
evening star, with its one clear call, had appeared in the pale sky,
guarded by the soft pure crescent of a new moon. The single star in
the vast heavens made a tender appeal to the hearts of both Millicent
and Michael. It intensified their solitude. It touched their senses
with longing. If Margaret had been with Michael, his arms would have
encircled her.

Millicent owed her self-restraint to her calculating common sense. To
have had a lover on such a night as this would have been a splendid
reward for all her trouble. In her heart she called the man at her
side a fool, a pitiful fool, and herself an idiot for loving him.

"It was a beautifu