“Really, I think I’d much rather.  I’ve got friends waiting for me at Assouan.”

“And I’ve got nobody waiting for me.  Suppose the patient agrees, and you continue in the same mind, I’m willing to relieve you of all responsibility and take the whole thing into my own hands.  And if at any time you come to London—­”

“I may be coming this summer.”

“Then I think I can be of use to you there.  Shall we go?”

This time Doctor Hartley did move.  A weight seemed lifted from his shoulders, and he went, almost with alacrity, towards the boat.

“After all, you are much my senior,” he said, as they were getting in, “besides being an intimate friend of the patient.  I don’t think it would seem unnatural to any one.”

“The most natural thing in the world!” said Isaacson, calmly.  “Yes, Hassan, you can come with us.  Come in the other boat.  I may want you to do something for me later on.”

The two doctors did not talk much as they were rowed towards the Loulia.  Both were preoccupied.  As they drew near to her, however, Doctor Hartley began to fidget.  His bodily restlessness betrayed his mental uneasiness.

“I do hope she’ll be reasonable,” he said at length.

“I think she will.”

“What makes you?”

“She’s a decidedly clever woman.”

“Clever—­oh, yes, she is.  She was very well known, wasn’t she, once—­in a certain way?”

“As a beauty—­yes.”

Isaacson’s tone of voice was scarcely encouraging, and the other relapsed into silence and continued to fidget.  But when they were close to the Loulia, almost under the blue light that shone at her mast-head, he said, in a low and secretive voice: 

“I think you had better take the lead, as you are my senior.  It will appear more natural.”

“Very well.  But I don’t want to seem to—­”

“No, no!  Don’t mind about me!  I shall perfectly understand.  I have chosen to call you in.  That shows I am not satisfied with the way the case is going.”

The felucca touched the side of the Loulia.  Ibrahim appeared.  He smiled when he saw them, smiled still more when he perceived beyond them the second boat with Hassan.  Isaacson stepped on board first.  Hartley followed him without much alacrity.

“I want to see Mrs. Armine,” Isaacson said to Ibrahim.  Ibrahim went towards the steps.

“Do you happen to know what that Arabic writing means?” Isaacson asked of Hartley, as they were about to pass under the motto of the Loulia.

“That—­yes; I asked.  It’s from the Koran.”

“Yes?”

“It means—­the fate of every man have we bound about his neck.”

“Ah!  Rather fatalistic!  Does it appeal to you?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t thought about it.  I wonder how she’ll receive us!”

“It will be all right,” Isaacson said with cheerful confidence.