The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1912-11-13

er was III lacls Tue Lace CA
hibited general indications, Of rough
warfare, the skin broken on the bridge
of the nose, a freshly healed cut un-
der the seeing eye, a long strip OF
plaster extending from the ear to the
mouth. There was nothing Of the beg
gar in his mien. His lean throat was
erect, his chin protrusive, the set Of
his shoulders proud and defiant. Ordi-
narily, the few lingering guides would
rudely have told him to be off about
his business; but they were familiar
with all turbans, and in the peculiar
twist Of this one, soiled and ragged
though it was, they recognized some
prince from the eastern deserts. Pres
emily he strobe away, but with a stiff
ness which they knew came from long
journeys upon racing-camels. ,
George dreamed that night Of magic
carpets, Of sad-eyed maidens, Of fierce
Bedouins, of battles in the desert, Of
genii swelling terrifcally out of squat
bottles. And once he rose and turned
on the lights 10 assure himself that
| the old Yhiordes was not a part OF
these vivid dreams. r
He was up shortly after dawn, in
white riding-togs, for a final canter to
Mena House and return. In two days
more he would be leaving Egypt be-
hind. Rather glad in one sense, rath-
er sorry in another. Where to put the
rug was a problem. He might carry
it in his steamer-roll; 1t would be
handler there than in the bottom OF
his trunk, stored away in the ships
hold. Besides, his experience had
taught him that steamer-rolls were
only indifferently inspected. YOU will
observe that the luster Of his Nigh
ideals was already dimming. He rea-
| soned that inasmuch as he al bound
to smuggle and lie, 1t might be well to
plan something artlstically. He wished
now that he was going to spend Christ
mas in Cairo; but it was too late to
change his booking without serious
loss of time. and money.
He had a light breakfast on the
veranda Of the Mena House, climbed
up to the desert, bantered the donkey
boys, amused himself by watching the
descent Of some German tourists who
had climbed the big Pyramid before
dawn to witness the sun rise, and
threw pennies to the horde of blind
beggars who instantly swarmed about
him and demanded, in the name of Al
lab, a competence for the rest Of their
days. He finally escaped them by
footing it down the incline to the no.
tel gardens, where his horse stood
waiting. ... .
1t was long after nine when he slid
from the saddle at the side entrance
| Of the Semiramis. He was on his way
to the bureau for his ley, when an
exquisitely gloved hand lightly touched
his arm.
Don't you remember me, Mr..
Jones?" said a voice Of vocal honey.
George did. In his confusion he
dropped his pith-helmet, and in stoop-
ing to pick it up, bumped into the por-
ter who had rushed to his aid. Re-
member her! Would he ever forget
her? He never thought Of her with
out clubbing himself an outrageous ass.
He Strengthened, his cheeks afre;
blushing was another Of those uncon-
trollable asininities Of his. 1t was
really she, come out of a past he had
hoped to be. %eternally inresuscitant;
the droli, the witty woman, to whom
in n mad moment Of liberality and
| Galahadism he had loaned without Sc
curity one hundred and fifty pounds. at
the roulette tables in Monte Carlo;
| she, for whom he had always blushed
when he recalled how easily she had
mulcted him! And here she was, Sc
rene, lovely as ever, unchanged.
MY dear" said the stranger George
| couldn't recall by what name he had
known herr; my dear" to Fortune
Chedsoye, who stood a little behind
her, "this Is the gentleman I've often
told you about. You were at school
at the time. I borrowed a hundred and
| fifty pounds Of him at Monte Carlo.
And what do you think? When 1 went
to pay him back the next day, he was
gone, without leaving the slightest
clue to his whereabouts. Isn't that
droll? And to think that l should
meet him here!"
That her name had slipped his
memory, if indeed he had ever known
it, was true; but n thing fingered
incandescently in his mind, and that