Seated apart in the reeking apartment, lit by oil lamps, where a midnight entertainment was in full swing, this lovely gipsy and young Sir Henry courted one another with the play of eyes instead of words, for neither could understand the language of the other. The sensuous beauty of the girl enthralled the young English aristocrat, and the blood in his veins, already heated by the unwonted liquors that he had consumed, coursed rapidly. The girl's responsive glances told him plainly that his advances were not unwelcome. Around the girl's neck was a silver chain of fine and delicate workmanship. Attached to the chain was a small Egyptian charm, in the form of a statuette of the goddess Isis, wearing on her head the royal sign, the orb of the sun, supported by cobras on either side. On the back, from head to foot, were inscribed the tiny hieroglyphics, which recorded certain cryptic words associated with the worship of that mythical deity of thousands of years ago. Sir Henry noticed the trinket, and, raising it in his hands, examined it. The gipsy snatched it away with angry gesture, a fierce light entering her large oval eyes, whilst the rosy pink that had suffused her olive cheeks swelled to the flush of scarlet that betrayed her savage nature. The azure blue of a young, handsome Anglo-Saxon's eyes, that look steadfastly, fearlessly, yet passionately, into the dark and sparkling depths of an untutored gipsy girl, are a proper antidote to that girl's flash of anger. Sir Henry gazed at her, and the girl's eyes fell beneath his searching, passionate gaze. With an impulse, as rapid as was her sudden rage, she took the chain and charm from her neck, and, with a motion signifying secrecy, handed it to him. Sir Henry kissed it, and, in doing so, kissed her hand. At intervals around this central, circular apartment, were several doorways, covered by rich and heavy curtains, of that rare oriental colour, which our manufacturers strive, with mixed success, to imitate, at prices that suit the varying purses of a bank clerk or a greengrocer, a stockbroker or an art student. Before each doorway stood two huge Nubian Arabs, robed in kaftans of yellow ochre-coloured silk, and wearing fezes of that deep, luscious red, the colour of which does not find a name in the student's paint box. The dark skins of their countenances were marked by the long slashes, which formed the cicatrices on each left cheek, and denoted their tribal marks. Scarlet slippers contrasted vividly with the dark brown of their huge sinewy legs. Stolidly and impassively they stood sentinels at these doorways, which led to passages, open to the sky between high walls of mud and plaster, above which the stars twinkled brilliantly in the deep-blue unfathomable vault above. The illimitable space, and all that is unknown of eternity, suggested that these stars were a countless myriad of eyes, looking down on this weird collection of humanity.