Suddenly, from out of the darkness they saw before them slowly, yet distinctly, four huge figures seated, their hands lying upon their knees, gradually come into being as the sun’s faint pink rays, entering by the door, struck upon their stone faces, infusing life into their sphinx-like countenances until they glowed and seemed almost to speak.

Expressions of amazement broke from everyone’s lips.

“Marvellous!” declared Lola in an awed whisper. “Truly they seem really to live. It is astounding.”

“Yes,” answered Waldron. “And thus they have lived each morning in the one brief hour of the sunrise through all the ages. From Rameses to Cleopatra each king and queen of Egypt has stood upon this spot and worshipped their great gods, Ra and the all-merciful Osiris. Such a sight as this surely dwarfs our present civilisation, and should bring us nearer to thoughts of our own Christian God—the Almighty.”

Chapter Four.

Contains a Bitter Truth.

When Hubert returned on board the Arabia and entered his deck-cabin, one of a long row of small cubicles, he started back in surprise, for Gigleux was there.

The Frenchman was confused at his sudden discovery, but only for a second. Then, with his calm, pleasant smile, he said in French:

“Ah, m’sieur, a thousand pardons! I was looking for the book I lent you the other day—that book of Maspero’s. I want to refer to it.”

Waldron felt at once that the excuse was a lame one.

“I left it in the fumoir last night, I believe.”

“Ah! Then I will go and get it,” replied the white-haired old fellow fussily. “But I hope,” he added, “that m’sieur will grant pardon for this unwarrantable intrusion. I did not go to the temple. It was a trifle too early for me.”

“You missed a great treat,” replied the Englishman bluntly, tossing his soft felt hat upon his narrow little bed. “Mademoiselle will tell you all about it.”

“You took her under your charge—as usual, eh?” sniffed the old fellow.

“Oh, yes. I escorted both her and Miss Lambert,” was the diplomat’s reply. “But look here, M’sieur Gigleux,” he went on, “you seem to have a distinct antipathy towards me. You seem to be averse to any courtesy I show towards your niece. 

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