“If only I could have a little peace!”

There was a frightful weariness in his voice, a sound that made Isaacson think of a cruelly treated child’s voice.  Mrs. Armine bent down and touched his hand as it lay on the newspaper which was still across his knees.  She smiled at him.

“A little patience!” she murmured.

She raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, it’s all very well, Ruby, but—­” He looked again at Isaacson, with a distinct though not forcible hostility.  “I know you want to doctor me, Isaacson,” he said.  “And she asked me to-night to see you.  Last night it was different, but to-night I don’t want doctoring.  Frankly”—­he sighed again heavily—­“I only see any one to-night to please her.  All I want is quiet.  We came here for quiet.  But we don’t seem to get it.”

He turned again to his wife.

“Even you are getting worn out.  I can see that,” he said.

Mrs. Armine’s forehead sharply contracted.  “Oh, I’m all right, Nigel,” she said, quickly.  She laughed.  “I’m not going to let them begin doctoring me,” she said.

“She’s nursed me like a slave,” Nigel continued, looking at the two men, and speaking as if for a defence.  “There has never been such devotion.  And I wish every one could know it.”  Tears suddenly started into his eyes.  “But the best things and the best people in the world are not believed in, are never believed in,” he murmured.

“Never mind, Nigel dear,” she said, soothingly.  “It’s all right.”

Isaacson, who with Hartley had been standing all this time because Mrs. Armine was standing, now sat down beside the sick man.

“I think true devotion will always find its reward,” he said, quietly, steadily.  “We only want to do you good, to get you quickly into your old splendid health.”

“That’s very good of you, of course.  But you didn’t do me good last night.  It was the worst night I ever had.”

Isaacson remembered the sound he had heard when the Nubians lay on their oars on the dark river.

“Let us try to do you good to-night.  Won’t you?” he said.

“All I want is rest.  I’ve told her so.  And I tell you so.”

“Shall I stay on board to-night and see you to-morrow morning when you have had a night’s rest?”

Nigel looked up at his wife.

“Aren’t you quite near?” he asked Isaacson, in a moment.

“I’m not very far away, but—­”

“Then I don’t think we need bother you to stay.  We’ve got Doctor Hartley.”

“I—­I’m afraid I shall have to leave you to-morrow,” said the young man, who had several times looked, almost with a sort of horror, at Mrs. Armine’s ravaged face.  “You see I’m with people at Assouan.  I really came out to Egypt in a sort of way in attendance upon Mrs. Craven Bagley, who is in delicate health.  And though she’s much stronger—­”

“Yes, yes!” Nigel interrupted.  “Of course, go—­go!  I want peace, I want rest.”