Elizabeth Eliza’s party had made a quick journey by the route from Brindisi, and proceeding directly to Cairo, had stopped at a small French hotel not very far from Mrs. Peterkin and her party.  Every morning at an early hour Elizabeth Eliza made her visit to the Sphinx, arriving there always the first one of her own party, and spending the rest of the day in explorations about the neighborhood.

[Illustration:  Every morning at an early hour Elizabeth Eliza made her visit to the Sphinx.]

Mrs. Peterkin, meanwhile, set out each day at a later hour, arriving in time to take her noon lunch in front of the Sphinx, after which she indulged in a comfortable nap and returned to the hotel before sunset.

A week—­indeed, ten days—­passed in this way.  One morning, Mrs. Peterkin and her party had taken the ferry-boat to cross the Nile.  As they were leaving the boat on the other side, in the usual crowd, Mrs. Peterkin’s attention was arrested by a familiar voice.  She turned, to see a tall young man who, though he wore a red fez upon his head and a scarlet wrap around his neck, certainly resembled Agamemnon.  But this Agamemnon was talking Greek, with gesticulations.  She was so excited that she turned to follow him through the crowd, thus separating herself from the rest of her party.  At once she found herself surrounded by a mob of Arabs, in every kind of costume, all screaming and yelling in the manner to which she was becoming accustomed.  Poor Mrs. Peterkin plaintively protested in English, exclaiming, “I should prefer a donkey!” but the Arabs could not understand her strange words.  They had, however, struck the ear of the young man in the red fez whom she had been following.  He turned, and she gazed at him.  It was Agamemnon!

He, meanwhile, was separated from his party, and hardly knew how to grapple with the urgent Arabs.  His recently acquired Greek did not assist him, and he was advising his mother to yield and mount one of the steeds, while he followed on another, when, happily, the dragoman of her party appeared.  He administered a volley of rebukes to the persistent Arabs, and bore Mrs. Peterkin to her donkey.  She was thus carried away from Agamemnon, who was also mounted upon a donkey by his companions.  But their destination was the same; and though they could hold no conversation on the way, Agamemnon could join his mother as they approached the Sphinx.

But he and his party were to ascend the pyramid before going on to the Sphinx, and he advised his mother to do the same.  He explained that it was a perfectly easy thing to do.  You had only to lift one of your feet up quite high, as though you were going to step on the mantelpiece, and an Arab on each side would lift you to the next step.  Mrs. Peterkin was sure she could not step up on their mantelpieces at home.  She never had done it,—­she never had even tried to.  But Agamemnon reminded her that those in their own house were very high,—­“old colonial;” and meanwhile she found herself carried along with the rest of the party.