bearing a letter to Margaret, in which he had told her everything that
had happened--not omitting Millicent's visit and her sudden
departure--had never even reached Luxor. He had fallen sick by the way
and had died of smallpox in a desert village. He alone of the whole
party had contracted the disease. The letter which he carried was
burned by the _sheikh_ of the village, a wise and cautious man, who had
been called in to give his advice as to the treatment of the infectious
traveller. A _sheikh's_ duties are many and varied; he is indeed the
father of his village. The traveller had, of course, gone to the
hostel or rest-house for travellers in the village, where he was
entitled to one night's rest and food.

It was during the long, anxious days when the saint hovered between
life and death that the true hospitality of the Bedouin camp was put to
the test. And it was not wanting; whatever was theirs to give they
gave with a beautiful hospitality. It was to them a pleasure and
satisfaction; Allah be praised that they were able to render any
service to the holy man and to help the stranger who had shown him so
great an act of charity. Eggs and milk and the flesh of young kids
they had in abundance, and these offerings they sent to the camp in
such quantities that Michael felt embarrassed and overwhelmed. Michael
knew that they are not a devout people, but in this instance their
instinctive hospitality, stimulated by their superstitions, served in
place of blind obedience to the teachings of the Koran, in which the
rules set forth on the subject of charity are splendid and far-reaching.

The little figure with the silver disc and the protruding "tummy" had
become quite a familiar sight in his camp; it came and went with the
nervous agility of an antelope.

On this evening, as Michael watched the party of mourners drawing
nearer and nearer to the camp, he tried to understand their thoughts.
He knew that each one of them believed exactly the same thing; their
spiritual ideas never strayed one letter from the Koran; their minds
had never thought for themselves--it would have been rank heresy so to
do. They were as certain now as though they had seen it there that the
saint's soul was in Barzakh. It had left this, the first world, the
world of earning and of the "first creation," the world where man earns
his reward for the good or bad deeds which he has done. In Barzakh the
saint would have a bright and luminou