The day before we left I went over to Rainbow Cottage. Dorcas and Alison said goodbye to me as though it was our last farewell. Sabina and Oliver had been invited to supper and I could not help knowing how much they wished that I had married Oliver and settled quietly into the life at the rectory which they had chosen for me.

I was rather glad when the evening was over, and the next day when we joined the S.S. Stalwart at Southampton my great adventure had begun.

It was a fascinating experience to be aboard ship and I couldn't help wishing that Tybalt and I were alone together. Evan and Theodosia, I daresay, felt the same for themselves; that left Hadrian, Terence, and Tabitha. Poor Theodosia was confined to her cabin for the first few days although the sea was not unduly rough considering the time of the year. Conversation was mainly about the expedition and as Theodosia was not present I couldn't help feeling the tyro because it was astonishing how much Tabitha knew.

The Bay, contrary to expectations, was fairly smooth and by the time we reached Gibraltar, Theodosia was ready to emerge. Evan was such a kind and thoughtful husband; he spent a great deal of time with Theodosia and I found myself wondering whether Tybalt would have made me his chief concern if I had suffered from the sea as my half sister did.

We had a pleasant day at the Rock and went for a trip up to the heights in little horse-drawn traps; we laughed at the antics of the apes and admired the magnificent scenery and the day was a happy one. Shortly after we arrived at Naples. As we were there for two days we took a trip as might have been expected to Pompeii. Excavations were still going on and more and more of that buried town was being revealed. As I walked arm in arm with Tybalt over those stones which until seventy-nine years after the birth of Christ had been streets I was caught up in the fascination of it all; and I said to Tybalt: "How lucky you are to have this profession which brings these treasures to the world."

He was delighted that I shared his enthusiasm. He pointed out to me the remains of houses and reconstructed in his mind the manner in which these people had lived under the shadow of Vesuvius before that fatal day when the great mountain had erupted. The town had been buried for centuries and it had only emerged just over a hundred years ago when archaeologists discovered it.

When we were back on the ship the discussion about the discoveries of that tragic city continued far into the night.

At Port Said we left the ship and traveled to Cairo—just the two of us—where Tybalt had business to attend to.

I had read a great deal about Egypt and as I had lain in my bed in Rainbow Cottage and at Keverall Court my imagination had transported me to this mysterious land. I should, therefore, have been prepared, yet none of my fancies could compare with the reality and the impact upon me was exhilarating, exciting beyond my dreams.

It was a golden land, dominated by a sun which could be merciless; one was immediately conscious of thousands of years of antiquity. When I saw a goatherd in his long white robes I could believe I was far back in the days of the Old Testament. The country held me spellbound; I knew that here anything could happen—the most wonderful things, the most fearful. It was both beautiful and ugly; it was stimulating, thrilling, and sinister.

We stayed at a small hotel which looked out onto the Nile. From my window I could see the riverbank and the gold colored Mokattam Hills; how different from the green of Cornwall, the misty dampness, the luxuriant vegetation. Here one was aware of the ever-present sun—relentlessly burning the land. If green was the color of England, yellow was that of Egypt. It was the ambience of antiquity which caught my imagination. The people in their white robes and sandaled feet; the smells of cooking food; the sight of disdainful camels picking their dainty ways. I listened in wonder when I first heard the muezzin from the top of his minaret calling the people to prayer; and I was amazed to see them stop where ever they were and pay homage to Allah. Tybalt took me into the souks which I found fascinating with him beside me but I think I should have felt them a little sinister had I been alone. Dark-eyed people watched us intently without staring, and one was constantly aware of their scrutiny. Through the narrow streets we wandered, and we looked into the darkened cave-like shops where bakers were making bread coated with seeds and where silversmiths worked over their braziers. There the water-seller demanded attention with the clatter of his brass cups and at the back of the dark openings men sat cross-legged weaving and stitching. In the air the heavy scent of perfumed oils mingled with that of the camel dung which was used as fuel.

I shall never forget that day—the jostling crowds of the noisy streets; the smells of mingling dung and perfume; the side glances from veiled dark eyes; the call to prayer and the response of the people.

"Allah is great, and Mohammed his prophet." How often I was to hear those words and they never failed to thrill me.

We paused by one of the shops which were like huts open to the street. At the back a man worked cutting and engraving stones and on a stall inside the hut was an array of rings and brooches.

"You must have a scarab ring," said Tybalt. "It'll bring you luck in Egypt."

There were several of them on a tray and Tybalt selected one.

"This is tourmaline," he said. "Look at the carved beetle. He was sacred to the ancient Egyptians."

The man had risen at the back from his work and came eagerly forward.

He bowed to me and to Tybalt. His eyes shone at the prospect of a sale and I listened to him and Tybalt as they bargained over the price, while several small children came round to watch. They could not take their eyes from Tybalt and me. I suppose we appeared very strange to them.

Tybalt took the ring and showed me the beetle. About it were hieroglyphs very delicately carved. Tybalt translated, "Allah be with you."

"There could not be greater good luck than that," he said.

"It is what every man should give to the one he loves best when she first comes to this land."

I slipped the ring on my finger. There were delighted cries of approval from the children. The ring was paid for and we went on our way with the blessings of the stonecutter ringing in our ears.

"We had to bargain," said Tybalt. "He would have been most disappointed in us if we had not." Then he looked at my ecstatic face and said: "You are happy today, Judith."

"I'm so happy," I said, "that I'm afraid."

He pressed my hand with the ring on it. "If you could have a wish what would it be?" he asked.

"That I could be as happy as this every day of my life."

"That's asking a lot of life."

"Why should it be? We are together, we have this great interest. I see no reason why we should not always be in this state of happiness. Aren't our lives what we make them?"

"There are certain outside factors, I believe."

"They shan't hurt us."

"Dear Judith, I do believe you are capable of arranging even that."

Back to our hotel and the warm scented night with the smells of Egypt and the great moon which made the night almost as light as day.

These were the happiest days of my life to that time because we were alone together in this exciting land. I wished that we could have stayed there together and not have had to join the others. An absurd wish because it was to join the party that we had come to Egypt.

The next day we went out to the Pyramids—that last remaining wonder of the ancient world; and to find myself face to face with the Sphinx was an experience which enthralled me completely. Mounted somewhat precariously on my camel, I felt exhilarated and I could see how much Tybalt enjoyed my excitement. One hundred thousand men had toiled for twenty years to achieve this wonder, Tybalt had told me; the stone had been quarried from the nearby Mokattam Hills and dragged across the desert. I felt, as everyone else must on witnessing this fantastic sight, speechless with wonder.

When we dismounted, I entered the Pyramid of Cheops and bending double followed Tybalt up the steep passage to the burial chamber where the Pharaoh's red granite sarcophagus was displayed.

Then over the sand perched high on our reluctant beasts of burden. I was in an exalted mood when we returned to our hotel.

We dined at a small table secluded from the rest of the diners by palms. I had piled my dark hair high on my head and wore a green velvet gown which I had had made by Sarah Sloper before I left home. I kept touching the pink tourmaline ring on my finger remembering that Tybalt had said that it was the gift of a lover that good fortune might preserve in a strange land the one he loved best.

Sitting opposite Tybalt I marveled afresh at the wonderful thing that had happened to me; and there flashed into my mind then the thought that even if my fortune had been a deciding factor in Tybalt's wishing to marry me, I didn't care. I would make him love me for myself alone. I remembered it was said of our late Prime Minister, Lord Beacons-field, that he had married his Mary Anne for her money but at the end of their lives he would have married her for love. That was how it should be with us. But I was romantic and foolish enough to hope that it was not for my fortune that Tybalt had married me.

Tybalt leaned forward and took my hand with the scarab ring on it; he studied it intently. "What are you thinking, Judith?" he asked.

"Just of the wonder of everything."