Here a comfortable meal and rest somewhat restored them.  By the next day a messenger from the boat brought her the return telegram from Messina.  Mr. Peterkin and family, left behind by the “Messagerie” steamer, had embarked the next day by steamer, probably for Naples.

More anxious than ever was Mrs. Peterkin to send her despatch.  It was too late the day of their arrival; but at an early hour next day it was sent, and after a day had elapsed, the answer came:—­

  “All meet at the Sphinx.”

Everything now seemed plain.  The words were few but clear.  Her English friends were going directly to Cairo, and she accompanied them.

After reaching Cairo, the whole party were obliged to rest awhile.  They would indeed go with Mrs. Peterkin on her first visit to the Sphinx, as to see the Sphinx and ascend the pyramid formed part of their programme.  But many delays occurred to detain them, and Mrs. Peterkin had resolved to carry out completely the advice of the telegram.  She would sit every day before the Sphinx.  She found that as yet there was no hotel exactly in front of the Sphinx, nor indeed on that side of the river, and she would be obliged to make the excursion of nine miles there and nine miles back, each day.  But there would always be a party of travellers whom she could accompany.  Each day she grew more and more accustomed to the bewildering sights and sounds about her, and more and more willing to intrust herself to the dark-colored guides.  At last, chafing at so many delays, she decided to make the expedition without her new friends.  She had made some experiments in riding upon a donkey, and found she was seldom thrown, and could not be hurt by the slight fall.

And so, one day, Mrs. Peterkin sat alone in front of the Sphinx,—­alone, as far as her own family and friends were concerned, and yet not alone indeed.  A large crowd of guides sat around this strange lady who proposed to spend the day in front of the Sphinx.  Clad in long white robes, with white turbans crowning their dark faces, they gazed into her eyes with something of the questioning expression with which she herself was looking into the eyes of the Sphinx.

There were other travellers wandering about.  Just now her own party had collected to eat their lunch together; but they were scattered again, and she sat with a circle of Arabs about her, the watchful dragoman lingering near.

Somehow the Eastern languor must have stolen upon her, or she could not have sat so calmly, not knowing where a single member of her family was at that moment.  And she had dreaded Egypt so; had feared separation; had even been a little afraid of the Sphinx, upon which she was now looking as at a protecting angel.  But they all were to meet at the Sphinx!

If only she could have seen where the different members of the family were at that moment, she could not have sat so quietly.  She little knew that a tall form, not far away (following some guides down into the lower halls of a lately excavated temple), with a blue veil wrapped about a face shielded with smoke-colored spectacles, was that of Elizabeth Eliza herself, from whom she had been separated two weeks before.