Very swiftly he had returned with the tide in the night.  Now, in the eye of day, he must go up river against it.  The men toiled hard, lifting themselves from their seats with each stroke of the oars and bracing their legs for the strain.  But the boat’s progress was slow, and Isaacson sometimes felt as if some human strength were striving persistently to repel him.  He had the sensation of a determined resistance which must be battled with ruthlessly.  And now and then his own body was tense as he watched his men at their work.  But at last they drew near to the Loulia, and his keen, far-seeing eyes searched the balcony for figures.  He saw none.  The balcony was untenanted.  Now it seemed to him as if in the fierce heat, upon the unshaded water, the great boat was asleep, as if there was no life in her anywhere; and this sensation of the absence of life increased upon him as they came nearer and nearer.  All round the upper deck, except perhaps on the land side of the boat, which he could not see, canvas was let down.  Shutters were drawn over the windows of the cabins.  The doors of the room of the fountain were open, but the room was full of shadow, which, from his little boat, the eyes of Isaacson could not penetrate.  As they came alongside no voice greeted them.  He began to regret having come in the hour of the siesta.  They glided along past green shutter after green shutter till they were level with the forward deck.  And there, in an attitude of smiling attention, stood the tall figure of Ibrahim.

Isaacson felt almost startled to find his approach known, to receive a graceful greeting.

He stepped on board followed closely by Hassan.  The deck was strewn with scantily clad men, profoundly sleeping.  Isaacson addressed himself in a low voice to Ibrahim.

“You understand English?”

“Yes, my gentleman.  You come to meet the good doctor who him curin’ my Lord Arminigel.  He bin here very long time.”

“He’s here already?”

Ibrahim smiled reassuringly.

“Very long time, my gentleman.  Him comin’ here to live with us till my lord him well.”

And Ibrahim turned, gathered together his gold-coloured skirts, and mounted the stairs to the upper deck.  Isaacson hesitated for a moment, then followed him slowly.  In that brief moment of hesitation the words had gone through Isaacson’s mind:  “I ought to have been here sooner.”

As he mounted and his eyes rose over the level of the top step of the companion, he was aware of a slight young man, very smartly dressed in white ducks, a loose silk shirt, a low, soft collar and pale, rose-coloured tie, a perfectly cut grey jacket with a small blue line in it, rose-coloured socks, and white buckskin boots, who was lying almost at full length in a wide deck-chair against cushions, with a panama hat tilted so far down over his eyes that its brim rested delicately upon his well-cut, rather impertinent short nose.  From his lips curled gently pale smoke from a cigarette.