Although they had talked upon shipboard, this was the first time they had been en tete-a-tete.

To-night Mrs. Armine’s eyes told Baroudi plainly that she admired him, told him more—­that she wished him to know it; and he accepted her admiration, and now made a bold return.  For soon the change in her was matched by the change in him.  The open resolution of his face, which on the ship had often attracted Nigel, was now mingled with a something sharp, as of cunning, with a ruthlessness she could understand and appreciate.  As she looked at him in the gathering darkness of the night, she realized that housed within him, no doubt with many companions, there was certainly a brigand, without any fear, without much pity.  And she compared this brigand with Nigel.

“How do you find Egypt, madame?  Do you like my country?”

He leaned a little forward as at last he broke their silence, and the movement, and his present attitude, drew her attention to the breadth of his mighty shoulders and to the arresting poise of his head, a poise that, had it been only a shade less bold, would have been almost touchingly gallant.

“Have you seen all the interesting things in Thebes and Karnak?”

“Yes.  We’ve been quite good tourists.  We’ve been to the Colossi, the tombs, the temples.  We’ve dined by moonlight on the top of the Pylon at Karnak.  We’ve seen sunset from Deir-al-Bahari.”

“And sunrise?”

“From nowhere.  I prefer to sleep in the morning.”

“And do you care about all these things, tombs, temples, mummies—­madame?  Have you enjoyed your Egyptian life?”

She paused before answering the question.  As a fact, she had often enjoyed her expeditions with Nigel in the bright and shimmering gaiety of the exquisite climate of Luxor; the picnic lunches out in the open, or within the walls of some mighty ruin; the smart canters on the straight brown paths between the waving green prairies or crops, above which the larks sang and the wild pigeons flew up to form the only cloud in the triumph of gold and of blue; the long climbs upward into the mountains along the tiger-coloured ways, where the sun had made his empire since the beginning of the world; the descents when day was declining, when the fellahin went homewards under the black velvet of the palm-trees, and the dust stirred by their brown and naked feet rose up in spirals towards the almost livid light of the afterglow.  And she had enjoyed the dinner at Karnak in the pale beams of a baby moon.  For she still had the power to enjoy, and much of the physical energy of the average Englishwoman, who is at home in the open air and quite at her ease in the saddle.  And Egypt was for her a complete novelty, and a novelty bringing health, and a feeling almost of youth.

Nevertheless, she paused before replying.