“Where we are going. We alight there to see the ruins of Memphis and the Pyramids of Sakkara.”
Pauline looked puzzled, but said no more and sat silently wrapped in her own thoughts, now of Stone, now of Carr, and again of herself.
At Bedrashein, they left the train. Pauline looked anxiously around but saw nothing of her cousin.
“I do not see him,” said Ahri, gravely, meeting her inquiring glance; “but I obey his orders. He said, if he be not here, we go to the desert to meet him.”
“To the desert? How? Where?”
“This way. Here are our carts.” Ahri led the way to where two sand-carts stood waiting, evidently for them. They were a little like English dog-carts and drawn by desert horses.
“You take that one, Miss Stoort, and I this,” directed Ahri, standing with outstretched hand, like a commanding officer.
Bewildered but knowing the responsibility of Carr’s servant, Pauline got into the cart he indicated. She did not at all like the looks of the gaunt black Moor who drove her, but thought best to say nothing. She had learned never to show fear of the native servants, and she held her head high, and gave the driver only a haughty stare. Ahri, after she was arranged for, sprang into the other cart, and they set off.
The road was through the village, through palm groves, past large expanses of water, and at last through desert wastes, among foot-hills that quickly cut off the view of the road just traversed.
Pauline’s cart was ahead of the other, and looking back she could not see the other one, in which Ahri rode.