With our Nubians and their craft out of his watery way, he was free to fib when the time came. "Go look for the others?" he echoed Mrs. East's proposal. "Why, they've gone. I met them."

"Gone! And left me behind when they knew I was here?" she exclaimed.

"They can't have done such a thing."

"I'm afraid there's been a mistake," replied Sir Marcus presently.

"They certainly _have_ gone. I met the boat. Borrow was expecting me to-day, you know--or maybe you don't know. And when he saw me in my felucca, he stopped his to explain that evidently there'd been a _contretemps_." (I'm sure Lark misp.r.o.nounced that word!) "The temple guardian said a gentleman had arrived and taken the lady who was waiting, off in a boat. Of course Borrow thought I had come along, and persuaded you to go with me, after telling the guardian to let him know. I expect the guardian's got mighty little English: and they say white ladies all look alike to blacks. He must have mixed you up with some other lady. I suppose my folks haven't been the only people at Philae since you came?"

Mrs. East admitted that a number of "creatures" had come and gone. But she thought all had vanished before the departure of the galleys.

"You see you thought wrong. That's all there is to it," Sir Marcus a.s.sured her. And having taken these elaborate measures to secure the lady's society for himself alone (Nubian rowers don't count) he proceeded to lure her hastily into his own boat, lest any or all of the Obstacles should arrive to spoil his _coup_.

That was the manner of our marooning.

At the time, we were ignorant of what was happening behind our backs; the sunset for instance, and the only available boat calmly rowing away from the drowned Temple of Philae.

We were thinking of something else; and so was Sir Marcus, or he would not have forgotten the repentant promise he made himself, soon to send back a boat and take us off. We were, therefore, in the position of unrehea.r.s.ed actors in a play who don't know what awaits them in the next act: while those who may read this can see the whole situation from above, below, and on both sides. Four of us, marooned at Philae, not knowing it, and night coming on.

CHAPTER XXVI

WHAT WE SAID: WHAT WE HEARD

"Biddy, you were never wiser in your life," I exploded as I got her on the bench. "You warned me there wasn't a second to lose. I've lost years already, and I can't stand it the sixtieth part of a minute longer, without telling you how I love you!"

"My goodness!" gasped Biddy. "Do be serious for once, Duffer. This is no time for jokes. Don't you know you've delayed and delayed in spite of my advice, till you've practically lost that girl? And if there's any chance left--"

"The only chance I want is with you," I said. "Darling, I want you with my heart and soul, and all there is of me. _Have_ I any chance?"

"And how long since were you taken this way?" demanded Biddy, at her most Irish, staring at me through the darkness of the little dim room in the pylon.

"Ever since you were an adorable darling of four years," I a.s.sured her.

"Only I was interrupted by going to Eton and Oxford, and your being married. But the love has always been there, in a deep undertone. The music's never stopped once. It never could. And when I saw you on the _Laconia_--"

"You fell in love with Monny!" breathlessly she cut me short.

"Nothing of the kind," I contradicted her fiercely. "You _ordered_ me to fall in love with Miss Gilder. I objected politely. You overruled my objections, or tried to. I let you think you had. And for a while after that, you know perfectly well, Biddy, the Set gave me no time to think any thoughts _at all_, connected with myself."

"You poor fellow, you have been a slave!" The soft-hearted angel was caught in the trap set for her pity.

"And a martyr. A double-dyed martyr. I deserve a reward. Give it to me, Biddy. Promise, here in this beautiful Marriage Temple, to marry me.

Let me take care of you all the rest of your life."

"My patience, a nice reward for you!" she snapped. "Let you be hoist by the same petard that's always lying around to hoist me! What do you _think_ of me, Duffer--and after all the proofs we've just had of the dangerous creature I am? Why, the whole trouble at Luxor was on my account. Even you must see that. Monny and I wouldn't have been let into Rechid's house if those secret men hadn't persuaded him to play into their hands, and revenge himself on you men as well as on us, for interfering with Mabel. It was _their_ plot, not Rechid's, we escaped from! And it was theirs at the Temple of Mut, too. Rechid was only their cat's-paw, thinking he played his own hand. _Just_ what they wanted to do I can't tell, but I can tell from what one of them said to Monny in the temple, that they took her for Richard O'Brien's daughter.

Poor child, her love for me and all her affectionate treatment of me, must have made it seem likely enough to them that she was Esme, safely disguised as an important young personage, to travel with her stepmother. Bedr must have a.s.sured his employers that he was certain the pale girl was really Miss Gilder; so they thought the other one with me must be Esme. You can't laugh at my fears any more! And I ask you again, what _do_ you think of me, to believe I'd mix you up in my future sc.r.a.pes?"

"I think you're the darling of the world," said I. "And my one talent, as you must have noticed, is getting people out of sc.r.a.pes. It'll be wasted if I can't have you. Besides, under the wing of an Emba.s.sy no one will dare to try and steal you, or blow you up. We'll be diplomats together, Biddy. Come! You say I've 'duffed' all my life, to get what I wanted. Certainly I've done a lot of genuine duffing in love; but do bear out your own expressed opinion of the work by saving it from failure. Couldn't you try and like me a little, if only for that? You were always so unselfish."

"Hush!" said Biddy, suddenly, "Hush!"

"Do you hate me, then? Is it by any chance, Anthony, you love?"

"No--no! Hold your tongue, Duffer."

"'No' to _both_ questions? I shan't stop till you answer."

"No, to both, then! _Now_ will you be silent?"

"Not unless you say you do care for me."

"Yes--yes, I do care. But, Sh! Don't you hear, they're talking just outside that window in the wall? If you can't keep a still tongue in your head, then for all the saints whisper!"

Her brogue was exquisite, and so was she. I worshipped her. When I slipped my arm round her waist, she dared not cry out. The same when I clasped her hand. Things were coming my way at last. And if I put my lips close against her ear I could whisper as low as she liked. I liked it too. And I _loved_ the ear.

She was right. They were indeed talking just outside the window, Monny Gilder and Anthony Fenton. The prologue was evidently over, and the first act was on. It began well, with a touch of human interest certain to please an audience. But unfortunately for every one concerned, this was a private rehearsal for actors only, not a public performance.

Biddy and I had no business in the dark auditorium. We were deadheads.

We had sneaked in without paying. The situation was one for a nightmare.

"For heaven's sake, let me cough, or knock something over!" I implored Biddy's ear, which (it struck me at the moment) was more like a flower than an unsympathetic sh.e.l.l, best similes to the contrary. Who could have imagined that it would be so heavenly a sensation to have your nose tickled by a woman's hair?

"There's nothing you can knock over, but me," Biddy retorted, as fiercely as she could in a voice no louder than a mosquito's. "And if you cough, I'll know you're a dog-in-the-manger."

"Why?" curiosity forced me to pursue.

"Because, you donkey, ye say ye don't want her yourself, yet ye won't give yer best friend a chance!"

"Can't be a dog and a donkey at the same time," I murmured. "Choose which, and stick to it, if ye want me to know what ye mean."

"Why, you--you Man, don't ye see, if we interrupt at such a minute, and such a conversation, they can _never_ begin again where they left off?

If _you'd_ wanted her, I'd have tried to save her for ye, at any cost.

But as ye don't, for goodness' sake give the two their chance to come to an understanding. Now be still, I tell ye, or they may hear us."

"We can't just sit and eavesdrop."

"Stop yer ears then. It'll take both hands."

It would; which is the reason I didn't do it. That would have been asking too much, of the most honourable man, in the circ.u.mstances.

Meanwhile, the two outside went on talking. Believing themselves to be alone with the sunset, there was no reason to lower their voices. They spoke in ordinary tones, though what they said was not ordinary; and we on the other side of the little unglazed window could not help hearing every word.

"I've been wanting to say it for a long time," in a voice like that of a penitent child Monny was following up something we had (fortunately) lost. "Only how could I begin it? I don't see even now how I did begin, exactly. It's almost easy though, since I have begun. I was horrid --horrid. I can't forgive myself, yet I want you to forgive me for doing your whole race a shameful injustice, for not understanding it, or you, or--or anything. You've shown me what a modern Egyptian man can be, in spite of things I've read and heard, and been silly enough to believe.

Oh, it isn't just that you come from some great family, and that you could call yourself a prince if you liked, as Lord Ernest says. He's told me how you could have a fortune, and a great place in your country if you'd reconcile yourself with your grandfather in Constantinople; but that you won't, because it would mean going against England. It isn't your position, but what you _are_, that has made me see how small and ridiculous I've been, Antoun Effendi. Can you possibly forgive me for the way I treated you at first, now I've confessed and told you I'm very, very sorry and ashamed?"

"I would forgive you, if there were anything to forgive," Anthony answered. And it must have taken pretty well all his immense self-control to go on speaking to the girl in French--an alien language --just then.

"Perhaps there would be something to forgive, if I weren't on my side a great deal more to blame than you. Will you let _me_ confess?"