if the story was true, but I just know it isn't."

"Of course it isn't!" Hadassah said, almost sharply. "Who spread the
report?"

"First it came from the native diggers in the valley, and then my
brother heard it from Mr. King. Now lots of people are talking about
it, and my brother wants me to go home. . . . I've promised to go
if . . ." Margaret paused. "That's why I came to you. I want your
advice. If we could only hear from Michael, I know the whole thing
would be explained. My brother would do anything he could to help me,
but his business ties him and . . ." again she paused and then said
hurriedly, "You know what men are--he hates my name being bandied
about."

"I'll get my husband to comb out the truth from all these lies."
Hadassah put her hand on Margaret's. "You'll laugh at your fears one
day."

"If you only knew how thoughtless Michael is about the opinion of the
world! If he isn't doing wrong, he never stops to think what
construction the world may be putting on his action, nor does he care."

"Personally I think it's the malicious talk of some enemy, or of Mrs.
Mervill herself. Can she have intercepted his letters, and spread the
report so as to separate you?"

"She may have followed him. If she is with him, she is self-invited."

Hadassah Ireton interrupted her. "Even Mrs. Mervill could scarcely do
that!"

"My brother says that I may wait in Cairo until we can find definite
proofs one way or another. A letter may come from Michael at any
moment. I know it will come if he is all right, but I'm so afraid he
is ill--that is really what I came to ask you about."

"You want us to try to find out if he is ill?"

"Yes, if you will, if it is not asking too much. Something keeps on
telling me that he is ill, that he is in need of help." Margaret was
speaking more earnestly and with less restraint. "I have had queer
visions and many presentiments since I lived in the Valley. I seem to
be able to see beyond . . . if you know what I mean. They have come
true in many instances--it is not mere imagination. But perhaps you
have as little belief as I once had in these things?"

"Where ought Mr. Amory to be just now--have you any idea?" Hadassah's
voice conveyed the idea to Margaret that the subject was too serious to
be spoken of hastily or decisively.

"He ought to have reached his destination, the hills beyond the ruins
of Tel-el-Amarna. Did you know the object of his journey?" Mar