At that moment, Meyer Isaacson came into the room.

“We must get the patient to bed as soon as possible,” he said, in his quiet, practical, and strong voice.

“I’ll go and see about the room,” said Mrs. Armine.

She went away quickly.

When she got upstairs there were drops of blood on her lower lip.

XLI

Nigel had come to hate the Loulia.  They had no further need of her, and he begged his wife to telegraph to Baroudi in his name to take her away as soon as he liked.

“Ibrahim has his address, I know,” he said.

The telegram was sent.  In reply came one from Baroudi taking over the Loulia.  The same day the Reis came up to the villa to receive backsheesh and to say farewell.  He made no remark as to his own and his crew’s immediate destiny, but soon after he had gone the Loulia untied, crossed the Nile, and was tied up again nearly opposite to the garden against the western bank.  And in the evening the sailors could be heard in the distance “making the fantasia.”

Mrs. Armine heard them as she walked alone in the garden close to the promontory, and she saw the blue light at the mast-head.  The cabin windows were dark.

So this was the end of their voyage to the South!

She stood still near the wall of earth which divided the garden from the partially waste and partially cultivated ground which lay beyond it.

She had not thought that they would come back—­there.

This was the end of their voyage.  But what was to be the end?

Baroudi made no sign.  He had never written to her one word.  She had never dared to write to him.  He had not told her to write, and that meant he did not choose her to write.  She was very much afraid of him, and her fear of him was part of the terrible fascination he held to govern her.  She who had had so many slaves when she was young ended thus—­in being herself a slave.

She sat down by the earth wall on the first stones of the promontory.  The night was moonless; but in the clear nights of Egypt, even without the moon very near details can often be distinguished.

To the right of Mrs. Armine the brown earth bank shelved steeply to a shore that was like a sandy beach which an incoming tide had nearly covered.  About it, in a sort of large basin of loose sand and earth, grew a quantity of bushes forming a not dense scrub.  She had never been down to walk upon the sandy shore, though she had often descended to get into the felucca.  But to-night, after sitting still for some time, she went down, and began to pace upon the sand close to the water’s edge.

From here she could not see the house with its lighted windows, speaking to her of the life in which she was involved.  She could see nothing except the darkness of the great river, the dark outline of the promontory, and of the top of the bank where the garden began, the dark and confused forms of the bushes tangled together.  At her feet the silent water lay, like lake water almost, though farther out the current was strong.