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Updated: June 24, 2025
He wondered if it were the Loulia, and something of his usual alertness returned to him. For a moment he thought of calling up the snarling and indignant Hassan, whose piercing eyes might perhaps discern the dahabeeyah's identity even from this distance. Or he might go back to his boat, and tell the men to get out their poles again and work her up the river till he could see for himself.
When Hamza went with the card, he had shut behind him the door at the foot of the stairs, which divided the rooms on the Loulia from the deck. Presently as no one came, Isaacson looked at this door. He saw above it the Arabic inscription which Baroudi had translated for Mrs. Armine and he wondered what it meant.
"No?" said Isaacson, with a forced carelessness. "All the men bin sleepin', the Reis him ready to start. We stop by the Loulia, and we take the message ourselfs." "No. I'm not going to start at present. It's too hot." Hassan showed his long teeth, which looked like the teeth of an animal. Isaacson knew a protest was coming. "I'll give the order when I'm ready to start.
The small felucca of the Loulia was alongside. Hamza took her by the arm. Although his hand was small and delicate, it seemed to her then a thing of iron that could not be resisted. She got into the boat. Where was she going to be taken? It occurred to her now that perhaps Baroudi had some plan, that he did not choose to keep her on board, that he had a house at Luxor, or The Villa Nuit d'Or!
The gentle and monotonous exercise, now accompanied by monotonous though ungentle music, seemed to assist the movement of his thought. When he left the garrulous lady patient, he might have gone to the post-office and telegraphed to the Loulia. It was possible to telegraph to Edfou.
"That'll be it, then. As you come down. You can easily find us. Our boat is called the Loulia." "And so your husband's had a touch of the sun?" "Yes; digging at Luxor. Of course, I got in a doctor at once, a charming man Doctor Baring Hartley. Very clever a specialist from Boston. He has the case in charge." "Oh, you've got him on board?" "No. Nigel wouldn't have any one.
As she sat there, she seemed to be staring not at Nigel but at herself. And as she stared at herself, she marvelled. "He said that you had done it, or, if not that, had known that it was being done, had meant it to be done." She remained silent and motionless. And now, with her thought of the truth revealed to her husband was linked another thought of the girl with Baroudi on board of the Loulia.
When Hassan came up with the tea Isaacson gave him a cigarette, and, instead of getting rid of him, began to talk, or rather to set Hassan talking. "What's the name of the tall boy who met us on the Loulia?" "Ibrahim, my gentleman." Ibrahim the name that was mentioned in Nigel's letter as that of the Egyptian who had arranged for the hire by Nigel of the Loulia.
What he wished and what he meant in regard to her Mrs. Armine did not know. And just at this moment she scarcely cared. The return to the villa and the departure of the Loulia seemed to have fanned the fire within her. While she was on the Loulia, in an enclosed place, rather like a beautiful prison, she had succeeded in concentrating herself to a certain extent on matters in hand.
Once again Isaacson heard of him, and now of his almost legendary wealth. Then came a flood of gossip in pigeon-English. Hamza was presently mentioned, and Isaacson learnt of Hamza's pilgrimage to Mecca with Mahmoud Baroudi, and of his present service with "my Lord Arminigel" upon the Loulia. Isaacson did not say that he knew "my Lord."
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