It Happened in Egypt

								

luck, and chance of success in the "scheme," I said nothing of Anthony.

CHAPTER II
CLEOPATRA AND THE SHIP'S MYSTERY

Now, at last, I can skip over the three days at sea, and get to our
arrival at Alexandria, because, as I've said, the exciting part began
soon after, at Cairo.
They were delightful days, for the Laconia is a Paris hotel disguised
as a liner. And no man with blood in his veins could help enjoying the
society of Brigit O'Brien and Rosamond Gilder. Cleopatra, too, was not
to be despised as a charmer; and then there was the human interest of
the prot�g�es, the one with the eyes and the one who had reluctantly
developed into the Ship's Mystery.
Still, in spite of Biddy and Monny and the others, and not for them, my
heart beat fast when, on the afternoon of the third day out from
Naples, the ship brought us suddenly in sight of something strange. We
were moving through a calm sea, more like liquefied marble than water,
for it was creamy white rather than blue, veined with azure, and
streaked, as marble is, with pink and gold. Far away across this
gleaming floor blossomed a long line of high-growing lotus flowers,
white and yellow against a silver sky. The effect was magical, and the
wonder grew when the big flower-bed turned into domes and cupolas and
spires rising out of the sea. Unimaginative people remarked that the
coast looked so flat and uninteresting they didn't see why Alexander
had wanted to bother with it; but they were the sort of people who
ought to stop at home in London or Birmingham or Chicago and not make
innocent fellow-passengers burn with unchristian feelings.
Soon I should see Anthony and hear his news. I felt sure he would be at
Alexandria to meet the ship. When "Antoun Effendi" makes up his mind to
do a thing, he will crawl from under a falling sky to do it. As the
Laconia swept on, I hardly saw the glittering city on its vast
prayer-rug of green and gold, guarded by sea forts like sleepy
crocodiles. My mind's eyes were picturing Anthony as he would look
after his wild Balkan experiences: brown and lean, even haggard and
bearded, perhaps, a different man from the smart young officer of
everyday life, unless he'd contrived to refit in the short time since
his return to Egypt--a day or two at most, according to my calculation.
But all my imaginings fell short of the truth.
As I thought of Anthony, Mrs. East came and stood beside me. I knew she
was there before I turned to look, because of the delicate tinkling of
little Egyptian amulets, which is her accompaniment, her leit motif,
and because of the scent of sandalwood with which, in obedience to the
ancient custom of Egyptian queens, she perfumes her hair.
I don't think I have described Monny Gilder's aunt, according to my
conception of her, though I may have hinted at Biddy's. Biddy having a
habit of focussing her sense of humour on any female she doesn't wholly