CHAPTER IX
"Love is one and the same in the original, but there are a thousand copies of it, and, it may be, all differing from one another."
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.
Ben Kelham, disguised as Rameses the Great, laid a hand upon the girl's shoulder as, passing to the left of the tent, she walked slowly towards the door leading to the grounds, whilst sounds of wrath came from the serried ranks of those who wished to pry into the future.
The fortune-teller had sent word that there would be no more reading of horoscopes or hands that evening, and had absented himself therewith through a back entrance.
"You have been a long time," said Ben Kelham. He looked magnificent as the great Sestoris, who had stood well over six feet in the days of Ancient Egypt. "What was the man telling you?"
Damaris was disturbed, and it was most unfortunate that, under the spur of inquietude, he should have chosen just this occasion and this moment to allow a hint of authority to creep into his voice and a shadow of proprietorship to show in his actions.
"How do you know who I am?" parried the girl coldly, as she shrugged the proprietory hand off her shoulder.
"Wellington gave you away. He followed your trail to the tent and sat growling at everybody until I came along and removed him."
"I wish you would leave the dog alone," said Damaris, with a certain amount of acerbity. "He is my custos."