At the same moment Aiyoub came into the room, without noise, and handed to Baroudi, who was sitting opposite to Mrs. Armine, with his left knee touching the rug and his right knee raised with his napkin laid over it, a basin of hammered brass with a cover, and a brass jug.  Baroudi held forth his hands, and Aiyoub poured water upon them, which disappeared into the basin through holes pierced in the cover.  Then, making a cup of his hands turned upwards, Baroudi received more water into it, conveyed it to his mouth, rinsed his mouth elaborately, and spat out the water upon the cover of the basin.  Aiyoub carried away the basin and jug, Baroudi dried his hands on his napkin, and then muttered a word.  It was “Bi-smi-llah!” but Mrs. Armine did not know that.  She sat quite still, for a moment unseen, unthought of; she listened to the quavering voice, to the beaten drum and arghool, she smelt the incense, and she felt like one at a doorway peering in at an unknown world.

Almost immediately Aiyoub came back, and they began the meal, which was perpetually accompanied by the music.  Aiyoub offered a red soup, a Kaw-ur-meh—­meat stewed in a rich gravy with little onions—­leaves of the vine containing a delicious sort of forcemeat, cucumbers in milk, some small birds pierced with silver skewers, spinach, and fried wheat flour mingled with honey.  She was given a knife and fork and a spoon, all made of silver, and the plates were of silver, which did not harmonize well with the golden tray.  Baroudi used only his fingers and pieces of bread in eating.

Mrs. Armine was hungry, and ate heartily.  She knew nothing about Eastern cooking, but she was a gourmet, and realized that Baroudi’s cook was an accomplished artist in his own line.  During the meal she was offered nothing to drink, but directly it was over Aiyoub brought to her a beautiful cup of gold or gilded silver—­she did not know which—­and poured into it with ceremonial solemnity a small quantity of some liquid.

“What is it?” she asked Baroudi.

“Drink!” he replied.

She lifted the cup to her lips and drank a draught of water.

“Oh!” she said, with an intonation of surprised disappointment.

“Lish rub el Moyeh en Nil awadeh!” he said.

“What does that mean?”

“‘Who drinks Nile water must return.’”

She smiled, lifted the cup again to her lips, and drank the last drop of water.

“Nile water!  I understand.”

“And now you will have some sherbet.”

He spoke to Aiyoub in Arabic.  Aiyoub took away the cup, brought a tall, delicate glass, and having thrown over his right arm an elaborately embroidered napkin, poured into it from a narrow vase of china a liquid the colour of which was a soft and velvety green.

“Is this really sherbet?” Mrs. Armine asked.

“Sherbet made of violets.”

“How is it made?”

By crushing the flowers of violets, making them into a preserve with sugar, and boiling them for a long time.