d to see how real my devotion to this cause is.
Tell me, are you only a tourist--I was going to say idler, but I know
you are not; you have the face of a man who does things--are you
tourist or worker here? What does Egypt mean to you? That sounds rather
non-conformist, but Egypt, to me, is the saddest, most beautiful, most
mysterious place in the world. All other nations, all other races, every
person in the world should be interested in Egypt. Egypt is the lost
child of Creation--the dear, pitiful waif of genius and mystery of the
world. She has kept the calendar of the ages--has outlasted all other
nations, and remains the same as they change and pass. She has been the
watcher of the world, the one who looks on, and suffers, as the rest of
the nations struggle for and wound her in their turn. What does Egypt
mean to you? What would you do for her--anything?"

There was no more satirical laughter in his eyes. He was deeply in
earnest, disturbed, even excited. "Egypt means everything in the world
to me. I would do what I could for her."

"What has she done for you?"

"She has brought me to you again--to make me know that what you were by
Skaw Fell all those years ago, you are now, and a thousand times more."

She parried the dangerous meaning in his voice, refused to see the
tenderness in his manner.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," she added in a tone vainly trying to be
unconcerned. "It is a pity that our youth pursues us in forms so little
desirable.... Who are they?" she added quickly, nodding towards the
shore, from which Dicky was coming with an Egyptian officer and a squad
of soldiers.

"H'm," he responded laughing, "it looks like a matter of consequence. A
Pasha, I should think, to travel with an escort like that."

"They're coming here," she added, and, calling to her servant, ordered
coffee.

Suddenly Kingsley got to his feet, with a cry of consternation; but sat
down again smiling with a shrug of the shoulders.

"What is it?" she asked, with something like anxiety, for she had seen
the fleeting suspicion in his look.

"I don't know," he answered lightly, and as though the suspicion had
gone. He watched Dicky and his companions closely, however, though he
chatted unconcernedly while they stood in apparent debate, and presently
came on. Dicky was whistling softly, but with an air of perplexity, and
he walked with a precision of step which told Kingsley of difficulty
ahead. He had not long to wait, a