She let her arm fall and scanned him.
“Rupert Bey!” she exclaimed. “So you are back again. Well, I have heard, also I always knew that you would come. But what do you here disguised as an Arab sheik? And why do you spy upon us at our rites? Oh! I tell you that had you not been Rupert Bey, by now you were a dead man.”
Meanwhile, the younger woman, who had followed Bakhita, not knowing the cause of the disturbance, actually stumbled against him, then recoiling, stood still, and in her amazement slowly let her hand sink, thereby emptying upon his feet the contents of the bowl she held.
It was a very curious sight—this big Englishman in his Arab robe, standing quite still and upright, lest any show of fear should bring about a knife-thrust, and the beautiful Eastern woman in her sacred but diaphanous garb, wearing the disc and the imposing emblem of Egyptian royalty, and slowly pouring her involuntary libation upon his feet. Its setting also was strange. All around were the great columns and carven walls, and staring down at them from beyond the altar those mutilated but still awful gods.
“Put up that knife,” he said, “and come into this side-chamber and I will tell you.”
Bakhita stooped, and lifting a dark, camel-hair cloak from where it lay on the floor near to the altar, threw it about the shoulders of her companion, drawing its hood over her head. Then taking her by the hand, she said to Rupert:
“We follow!” and led the way between the columns to the first chamber that opened on their right. It was a rough place, which probably in past ages had served as a storeroom of the temple, peopled with many bats that flittered to and fro unceasingly, uttering thin cries. Setting down the lamp upon one of the stone benches or tables with which it was furnished on either side, she said: “We are your servants, Rupert Bey,” adding, with her grim smile: “Have we not poured a libation to you?” and she looked at his feet wet with the contents of the glass bowl.
“It was not to me that you came here to pour libations,” he answered, laughing. “Now tell me, friend. What was this lady doing?” and he bowed towards the younger woman, “for never have I been more curious to learn anything upon earth.”
“Tell us first what you were doing, Rupert Bey? Nay, not about your business—I know all that—but why you followed us into the sanctuary?”
“For the same reason that you followed me into the temple—by pure accident. I was seated at the feet of one of the columns when you passed me, though who you were I did not guess. Afterwards, seeing the light, I came to look. That is my story; now for yours.”