The cool impudence of the pair struck me dumb. I shook with passion. For a moment I thought of calling a halt and returning the way we had come to my own camp with my Arabs. But for my curiosity to see the tomb of Ptahmes very probably I should have done so. In a few seconds, however, my rage cooled, and my uppermost feeling was admiration mixed with mirth. I had never been treated with such open and absurd contempt before. It was a refreshing experience. I burst of a sudden into a peal of laughter. Miss Ottley joined me in the exercise. But Sir Robert rode on like a hook-nosed Sphinx. "I knew I could not be mistaken," said Miss Ottley. "You should thank God for your sense of humour, Dr. Pinsent." "And who is benefiting from it at this moment, I should like to know?" I retorted. "The thanks are due from you, I fancy." "Deo gratias!" she flashed. "In sober truth, we need your Arabs sadly." "I repeat, I am glad to be of use." "We shall use you, but not necessarily in the cause of your Society. Understand that fully." "You mean?" "That you must not expect to share our secrets." "In plain words, you will not let me help you open the sarcophagus." "Your penetration is remarkable." "And if----" "And if," she interrupted quickly, "you require a reward for the courtesy we asked and you accorded or have promised to accord, you have but to name a sum in cash to have it paid." "Or----" said I, stung to the quick. "Or," she flashed, "return! You are at liberty to make your choice. Yours are not the only Arabs in Egypt. At a pinch we can wait a day or two. It is for you to say." I tore off my hat. "Miss Ottley--my Arabs are yours for as long as you require them!" I furiously announced. "Good day to you. Sir Robert, good day!" Then I dragged the head of my ass round and set his face to my camp. The beast, however, would hardly budge, and I had to belabour him unmercifully to induce him to trot. Never did man make a more undignified exit from circumstances of indignity. And it did not need Miss Ottley's mocking laughter to assure me that I looked ridiculous. I could have strangled her with all the cheerfulness in life; and from that moment I have cherished an ineradicable hatred of donkeys. Sir Robert did not open his lips. He did not even return my angry salute. Almost choking with rage, I finally got out of range of Miss Ottley's laughter. Then I dismounted and told the desert just what I thought of her and her father. It was almost midnight when I reached my camp, for, to crown all, I neglected the stars in my passion, and for two hours lost my way. Chapter II A Patient of the Desert