and seek to reveal its beauty to
mankind, were to Michael God's revelations of Himself upon earth. He
gave to China, Confucius, to India, Krishna, and so on. To Palestine
he gave Jesus, Whose teachings have lightened the darkness of the
Western world.

"You may call them all Christ or Jesus, if you like," he had said.
"For they are all imbued with the same Spirit, which is of God. Jesus
has become our ideal and example, He it is Whom God chose to teach a
doctrine suited to Western minds."

In the heat and stillness of the Valley Michael pondered in his heart
over all the arguments and discussions which he had had with Margaret
under the star-lit heavens, or in an expanse of blinding sunlight,
which left not a shadow as big as a man's hand on the golden sands of
the Sahara.

He was living again in the days which preceded his adventures in the
Libyan Desert. Abdul was conscious of his master's total absorption in
the thoughts which his return to the Valley had called up. For many
weeks the heat of the summer sun had made the Valley like a furnace;
even now, though the hottest hours of the day were past, it was
stifling and almost unendurable. The air scorched Michael's face like
the hot air which comes from an oven when its door is opened.

As they drew near to the hut which had once been his home, the
loneliness and desolation became more intense. It hurt Michael
indescribably; the contrast between the present and the past was
horrible. What he had looked upon as his home, and what had meant for
him so much activity of mind and body, was now a mere wilderness. It
was an inferno of heat and sandhills; even lizards and scorpions sought
the shade. Nothing but the dead Pharaohs under the hills remained to
tell him that this had been his Eden, where passion-flowers bloomed.

The wooden hut was bolted and barred and closely shuttered.

"Certainly the family are not at home," he said to Abdul, with grim
humour. "There's no good looking for Mohammed Ali--he won't greet us
with his white teeth and smiling eyes."

They halted. Not a movement or sound disturbed the Pharaonic
stillness; not a sign of even insect life caught their searching eyes.
Abdul drew a native whistle from his pocket and put it to his lips; its
sound travelled and echoed round the hills.

Instantly a white turban appeared and the tall figure of a _gaphir_
came forward, with his signal of office, a long staff carried in the
Biblical mann