"Well, I could make nothing of her, and she could make little of me,
though why she should be so tenderly interested in a stranger, I don't
know--unless, unless--oh! who is she, Horace?"
"If you will go on I will tell you what I think presently. One tale at a
time."
"Very good. I got quite well and strong, comparatively speaking, till
the climax last night, which upset me again. After that old prophet,
Simbri, had brought me my supper, just as I was thinking of going to
sleep, the Khania came in alone, dressed like a queen. I can tell you
she looked really royal, like a princess in a fairy book, with a crown
on, and her chestnut black hair flowing round her.
"Well, Horace, then she began to make love to me in a refined sort of
way, or so I thought, looked at me and sighed, saying that we had known
each other in the past--very well indeed I gathered--and implying that
she wished to continue our friendship. I fenced with her as best I
could; but a man feels fairly helpless lying on his back with a very
handsome and very imperial-looking lady standing over him and paying him
compliments.
"The end of it was that, driven to it by her questions and to stop that
sort of thing, I told her that I was looking for my wife, whom I
had lost, for, after all, Ayesha is my wife, Horace. She smiled and
suggested that I need _not_ look far; in short, that the lost wife was
already found--in herself, who had come to save me from death in the
river.
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