rself give you food? Did she ever prepare your coffee?"

Nigel started up in his chair with a furious spasm of energy.

"Go! Go!" he uttered, in a sort of broken shout or cry. His face was
yellowish white. His mouth was working.

"By God! I'll put you out!"

Grasping the arms of his chair, he stood up and he advanced upon
Isaacson.

"I'll go. But I'll leave you that!"

And Isaacson drew from his pocket the letter Mrs. Armine had sent by the
felucca, and laid it on the coffee-table.

Then he turned quickly, and went away through the dark garden.

Before he was out of sight of the house, he looked back. Nigel had sunk
upon his chair in a collapsed attitude.

From the western bank of the Nile came the shrill, attenuated sound of
the pipes, the deep throbbing of the daraboukkeh, the nasal chant of the
Nubians.

And the lights of the _Loulia_ were like a line of fiery eyes staring
across the Nile.

XLIII

When Mrs. Armine got into the night train at Luxor, heard the whistle of
the engine, felt the first slow movement of the carriage, then the
gradually increasing velocity, saw the houses of the village
disappearing, and presently only the long plains and the ranges of
mountains to right and left, hard and clear in the evening light, she
had a moment of almost savage exultation, as of one who had been in
great danger suddenly and unexpectedly escaping into freedom.

At last she was alone, unwatched by the eyes of affection and of perhaps
menacing suspicion and even hatred. How had she endured so long? She
wondered, and could scarcely tell where she had found her courage. But
though now she felt exultation, she felt also the tremendous strain she
had undergone. She knew that her nerves were shattered. Only in
happiness could she recover. She must have the life she wanted, and she
must have it now. Otherwise she was "done for." Was she going to have
it?

And soon the exultation passed, and again fear beset her. Even if she
found Baroudi in Cairo, what reception would she have at his hands?

With anxious fingers she took out of her dressing-case the gilded box he
had given her, and opened the lid. But, having opened it, she dared not
look at herself in the glass, and she shut it sharply, replaced it in
the case, and leaned back in her corner.

"I won't bother," she said to herself; "I won't worry. To-night I must
sleep. I must look my best to-morrow. Everything now may depend on how I
look when I get