fantasia, or native song and dance, for thebenefit of the travellers.
On each trip from Shellal to Wady Haifa this was usual, for Europeantravellers like to hear the weird native music, and the crooning desertsongs in which Allah is praised so incessantly. Besides, a collectionis made afterwards, and the sturdy, hard-working crew are benefited bymany piastres.
On the lower deck, beneath the brilliant stars the black-faced toilersof the Nile beat their tom-toms vigorously and chanted weirdly while thepassengers stood leaning over, watching and applauding. The crewsquatted in a circle, and one after the other sprang up and performed awild, mad dance while their companions kept time by clapping their handsor strumming upon their big earthenware tom-toms.
Then at eleven, the hour when the dynamos cease their humming and theelectric light goes out, the concert ended with all the crew--headed bythe venerable, white-bearded old pilot--standing up, salaaming andcrying in their broken English:
"Gud nites, la-dees and gen'lemens. Gud nites?"
It was just before three on the following morning when the huge gong,carried around by an Arab servant, aroused everyone, and very soon frommost of the cabins there turned out sleepy travellers who found theblack giant Hassan ready with his little cups of delicious black coffee.
Boulos was there, already gorgeous in a pale green silk robe, while thesteamer had half an hour before moved up to the landing-place.
"La-dees and gen'lemens!" cried the dragoman in his loud, drawling tone,"we no-ow go to see ze gree-at tem-pel of ze gawd, Ra--gawd of ze sun--ze tem-pel of ze sun-rise and ze greatest monument in all our Eg-eept.We shall start in fif mineets. In fif mineets, la-dees. Monumentstick-eets ve-ry much wanted. No gallopin' donkeys in Abu Simbel!"
Whereat there was a laugh.
Then the under-dragoman, a person in a less gorgeous attire, proceededto make up a parcel of candles, matches, and magnesium wire, andpresently the travellers, all of whom had hastily dressed, followedtheir guide on shore, and over the tiny strip of cultivated mud untilthey came to the broad stone steps which led from the Nile bank to thesquare doorway of the temple.
Here a number of candles were lit by the under-dragoman; and Waldron,taking one, escorted Lola and Miss Lambert. Within, they found a huge,echoing temple with high columns marvellously carved and covered byhieroglyphics and sculptured pictures.
Through one huge chamber after another they passed, the vaulted roof sohigh that the light of their candles did not reach to it. Only could itbe seen when the magnesium wire was burned, and then the little knot oftravellers stood aghast in wonder at its stupendous proportions.
At last they stood in the Holy of holies--a small, square chamber at theextreme end.
In the centre stood the altar for the living sacrifices, the narrowgroves in the stones telling plainly their use--the draining off of theblood.
All was darkness. Only Boulos spoke, his drawling, parrot-like voiceexplaining many intensely interesting facts concerning that spot whereRameses the Great worshipped the sun god.
Then there was a dead silence. Not one of that gay, chattering companydared to speak, so impressive and awe-inspiring was it all.
Suddenly, from out of the darkness they saw before them slowly, yetdistinctly, four huge figures seated, their hands lying upon theirknees, gradually come into being as the sun's faint pink rays, enteringby the door, struck upon their stone faces, infusing life into theirsphinx-like countenances until they glowed and seemed almost to speak.
Expressions of amazement broke from everyone's lips.
"Marvellous!" declared Lola in an awed whisper. "Truly they seem reallyto live. It is astounding."
"Yes," answered Waldron. "And thus they have lived each morning in theone brief hour of the sunrise through all the ages. From Rameses toCleopatra each king and queen of Egypt has stood upon this spot andworshipped their great gods, Ra and the all-merciful Osiris. Such asight as this surely dwarfs our present civilisation, and should bringus nearer to thoughts of our own Christian God--the Almighty."
CHAPTER FOUR.
CONTAINS A BITTER TRUTH.
When Hubert returned on board the _Arabia_ and entered his deck-cabin,one of a long row of small cubicles, he started back in surprise, forGigleux was there.
The Frenchman was confused at his sudden discovery, but only for asecond. Then, with his calm, pleasant smile, he said in French:
"Ah, m'sieur, a thousand pardons! I was looking for the book I lent youthe other day--that book of Maspero's. I want to refer to it."
Waldron felt at once that the excuse was a lame one.
"I left it in the _fumoir_ last night, I believe."
"Ah! Then I will go and get it," replied the white-haired old fellowfussily. "But I hope," he added, "that m'sieur will grant pardon forthis unwarrantable intrusion. I did not go to the temple. It was atrifle too early for me."
"You missed a great treat," replied the Englishman bluntly, tossing hissoft felt hat upon his narrow little bed. "Mademoiselle will tell youall about it."
"You took her under your charge--as usual, eh?" sniffed the old fellow.
"Oh, yes. I escorted both her and Miss Lambert," was the diplomat'sreply. "But look here, M'sieur Gigleux," he went on, "you seem to havea distinct antipathy towards me. You seem to be averse to any courtesyI show towards your niece. Why is this? Tell me."
The old man's eyes opened widely, and he struck an attitude.
"_Mais non, m'sieur_!" he declared quickly. "You quite misunderstandme. I am old--and perhaps I may be a little eccentric. Lola says thatI am."
"But is that any reason why I should not behave with politeness tomam'zelle?"
The old man with the closely cropped white hair paused for a fewseconds. That direct question nonplussed him. He drew a long breath,and as he did so the expression upon his mobile face seemed to alter.
In the silence Hubert Waldron was leaning against the edge of the littlemosquito-curtained bed, while the Frenchman stood in the narrow doorway,for, in that little cabin, there was only sufficient room for one personto move about comfortably.
"Yes," responded the girl's uncle. "Now that you ask me this verydirect question I reply quite frankly that there is a reason--a verystrong and potent reason why you, a man occupying an official positionin the British diplomacy should show no undue courtesy to MademoiselleLola."
"Why?" asked Hubert, much surprised.
"For several reasons. Though, as I expect she has already explained toyou, she is a penniless orphan, daughter of my sister, whose wealthyhusband lost every _sou_ in the failure of the banking firm of ChenierFreres of Marseilles. I have accepted the responsibility of hereducation and I have already planned out her future."
"A wealthy husband, I suppose," remarked the Englishman in a hard voice.
"M'sieur has guessed the truth."
"And she is aware of this?"
"Quite," was the old man's calm reply. "Therefore you now know thereason why I am averse to your attentions."
"Well, at least you are frank," declared the other with a laugh. "But Iassure you, M'sieur Gigleux, that I have no matrimonial intentionswhatsoever. I'm a confirmed bachelor."
Gigleux shook his head wisely.
"When a girl of Lola's bright and irresponsible disposition is thrownhourly into the society of a man such as yourself, my dear friend, thereis danger--always a grave danger."
"And is she fond of this man whom you have designated as her husband?"
"Nowadays girls marry for position--not for love," he grunted.
"In France, yes--but scarcely so in England," Waldron retorted, hisanger rising.
"Well, m'sieur, you have asked me a question, and I have replied," theFrenchman said. "I trust that this open conversation will make nodifference to our friendship, though I shall take it as a personalfavour if, in the future, you will not seek Lola's society quite somuch."
"As you wish, m'sieur," replied the diplomat savagely. He hated thecrafty, keen-
eyed old fellow and took no pains now to conceal hisantipathy.
The blow which he had for the past fortnight expected had fallen. Heintended at the earliest moment to seek Lola, and inquire further intothe curious situation, for if the truth be told, he had really fallendeeply in love with her, even though she might be penniless anddependent upon the old man.
When old Gigleux had passed along the deck he sat down upon the bed andlighting a cigarette, reflected. He was a younger son with only sevenhundred a year in addition to his pay from the Foreign Office. Madridwas an expensive post. Indeed, what European capital is not expensiveto the men whose duty it is to keep up the prestige of the BritishEmpire abroad? Diplomacy, save for the "plums," is an
Her Royal Highness: A Romance of the Chancelleries of Europe Page 6