grey-haired Frenchman, an uncleof mademoiselle named Jules Gigleux, a good type of the dandified thoughelderly Parisian, yet to Hubert--a student of men--he was from the firstsomething of a mystery.

  Ahmed, the silent dignified servant with the face of bronze, handedmademoiselle a small plate of bon-bons. She took one, and then turningto the diplomat, exclaimed in her pretty broken English:

  "I've at last persuaded uncle to take us up to Wady Haifa! I'm longingto see the Second Cataract. We have booked berths by the steamer nextMonday."

  "Next Monday!" Waldron echoed. "Why then we shall be fellow-passengersagain, mademoiselle. I booked my berth a month ago. I've been up therebefore. You will be much impressed by the rock-hewn Temple of AbuSimbel, the finest and most remarkable sight on the Nile."

  "I read all about it in the guide-books on board the _Arabia_," she saidwith her pretty French accent. "It is to see the wonderful temple thatI want to go there, although my uncle has been trying all day to putobstacles in the way. It takes a fortnight, and he seems to want to getback to Paris--whatever for, I fail to imagine."

  "He's tired of the Nile, like our young friend Chester," laughed Waldronmischievously. "I really believe Chester prefers a motor-run toBrighton with lunch at Crawley and tea at the Metropole."

  "All this jargon about Rameses, the great god, Osiris, good old Horus,Amen Ra, and all those gods with weird heads of birds and hornedanimals, the cartouches which the Pharaohs stuck upon everything--oh, itbecomes so horribly boring," declared the young fellow with a yawn."And everywhere one goes some Arab appears from nowhere pestering you tobuy an imitation scarab or some blue beads made in Birmingham a fewweeks ago. Why on the _Prince Luitpold Regent_ from Marseilles we had aman bringing over a fresh consignment of Egyptian antiques for theseason! He showed me some!"

  "Ah!" laughed Lola, "I see you are not held by the spell of Egypt, as weall are. Personally, I love it, and enjoy every moment of the day. Itis all so very different to everything else I have seen."

  "You have travelled a good deal, eh, mademoiselle?" asked Waldron, histea-cup in his hand.

  "Ah, yes; a good deal. I've seen most of the capitals of Europe," washer rather vague reply. "But there is nothing like Egypt--nothing halfso interesting as life up here, away from modern civilisation and yet sofull of up-to-date comfort. I marvel at everything--even at this hotel.They tell me all the food--even the fish and poultry--comes fromEurope. All that we eat is brought a couple of thousand miles!"

  "Yes," Miss Lambert agreed. "The English have done marvels in Egyptwithout a doubt."

  Waldron glanced at Lola, and thought he had never seen her looking soindescribably charming. She was slightly flushed after riding thatafternoon, but in her neat, clean linen gown, with her green-linedsun-helmet set slightly back on her head she presented a delightfulpicture of feminine daintiness and charm.

  At that moment Edna Eastham, a tall, well-built girl of twenty-two,crossed the veranda laughing loudly over to two ladies of the party whosat near, and took a vacant table for tea, whereupon Chester Dawson,with a word of excuse, rose quickly and, crossing, joined her.

  "Chester seems quite fed up," declared Waldron when the young fellow hadgone.

  "Yes. But he's coming with us up to Wady Haifa," said mademoiselle.

  "Because Miss Eastham is going," remarked the diplomat with a sarcasticsmile.

  "Perhaps so. But do you know," she went on, "I've had such awfultrouble to persuade uncle to take me on. He is anxious to get back toEurope--says he has some pressing business and all that."

  "The heat affects him, I believe; it is trying to one not used to it,"the man replied.

  "Yes. But I think it would be a shame to turn back now that we have gotup here so far. He was saying only last night that the trip up fromShellal to Wady Haifa was not over-safe--that the Nubians are hostile,and we might be attacked and murdered!"

  "Not much fear of that nowadays," Waldron laughed. "Our rule here hasstraightened things out. I admit, however, that there is a good deal ofhostility about here, and I believe there are arms on board the Shellalsteamers in case of trouble. But we anchor each night in mid-stream anda good watch is kept, while all the crew, though they are Arabs, havebeen in the service of the Steamboat Company for many years, and arequite loyal. So don't be nervous in the least, mademoiselle, for Iassure you there is really no necessity."

  "Uncle Jules is always fond of discovering dangers where none exist,"she laughed. "I haven't given the matter a second thought. We aregoing on Monday--and that is sufficient."

  The broad-shouldered, rather dandified old Frenchman, Jules Gigleux,sauntered out from the hotel and joined them a few moments later. Hewas rather stout, grey-haired--with a small, well-clipped moustache, anda pair of sharp beady eyes which seemed to search everywhere--a man who,though burly and apparently easy-going, was nevertheless remarkablyshrewd and sly.

  These latter traits in Monsieur Gigleux's character had aroused Hubert'ssuspicions. He seemed ever watchful and curiously distrustful andshifty--a man who, though he made pretence of being open andstraightforward and easy-going, was full of craft and deep cunning.

  "Well, uncle," exclaimed Lola, dropping into French as the man seatedhimself in the chair vacated by young Dawson, "we've just beendiscussing the possibility of all of us being murdered by Arabs on ourway up to Wady Haifa!" and she laughed mischievously.

  "It is not very safe," snapped the old gentleman in French. "I hearthat the Egyptian police have a great deal of trouble to keep thecountry in order between Shellal and Wady Haifa."

  "Ah!" Waldron exclaimed, "I fear, m'sieur, you are somewhatmisinformed. That portion of the Nile runs through Upper Nubia, and thepeople are more loyal to the British than they are even in Cairo."

  "Cairo," sniffed the old man. "Why, trouble is expected there everyday. Sedition is rife all over Egypt. If your Kitchener had not takensuch a strong hand a year ago the country would now be in open revolt.The British are not loved in Europe. I say that," he added quickly,"without disrespect of your country, m'sieur, please understand."

  "Perfectly," was the diplomat's reply. "But while I admit what you sayis the truth, and, further, that there is a growing discontent, yet Istill feel that, as far as we are concerned, though a little handful ofEuropeans and a great country peopled by Nubians, we are neverthelessquite safe. I was up there two years ago, and we did not even have apolice escort when we landed at Kalabsha or Abu Simbel--indeed, we neversaw a policeman."

  "Ah, that was two years ago," remarked Monsieur Gigleux, quiteunconcerned.

  "Oh, we shan't come to any harm, Uncle Jules," his niece assured him."I intend to have a real good time, M'sieur Waldron," added the girl,who, having finished her tea, rose and went to the balcony, where shestood alone watching the magnificent glories of the desert sunset.

  Below, around the great grey boulders in the river came very slowly asmall Arab boat gaily painted in light green, with only just sufficientwind to stretch its pointed lateen sail. The three fisher lads whichconstituted its crew were singing one of those weird, plaintive songs ofthe Nile to the accompaniment of a big earthenware tom-tom--that sametuneful invocation of Allah to assist them which one hears everywhereupon the Nile from Alexandria up to Khartoum.

  That strange, rhythmic song, the chorus of which is "Al-lal-hey!Al-lal-hey!" is the song of the Nile and rings always in one's ears atsundown--the reminder that Allah is great, Allah is merciful; there isno other God but Allah.

  But does that gay, Christian, tango-dancing, bridge-playing world ofSociety, who in winter occupy that great white hotel oppositeElephantine Island, ever heed that call of the black, half-naked, and,alas! often starving Arab? The call to Allah!

  CHAPTER TWO.

  AROUSES CERTAIN SUSPICIONS.

  The great salle a manger of the Cataract is built like an Easternmosque. Its interior is high domed, with old blue glass in the longnarrow windows, and walls striped in yellow and dull red.


  At night the scene is gay and animated--a replica of the supper-room atthe Savoy--for over the thickly carpeted floor of the mosque, Society,clad in the latest _mode_, dines and makes merry at many little tablesbright with electric lights and flowers, while the orchestra is justnear enough to be present.

  Waldron and Chester had been invited to old Gigleux's table on theirarrival at Assouan; therefore on that evening the party was, as usual, amerry one. After dinner, however, the little party dispersed--MissLambert to the reading-room, the old Frenchman to smoke, and Chester tofind Edna Eastham, leaving Waldron and Lola together.

  The night was perfectly clear,