"Yes? then?" I said, for he had paused a while, letting his gaze roam over the distant pyramids far away.
"Oh, well, then, old chap," he said with his sublime self-reliance, "then something will happen, I am sure—something wonderful—stupendous—I don't yet know what. The upheaval of those rocks, perhaps—a general chaos somewhere—to allow me to pass. What does it matter? Is not the present glorious enough that you want already to think of a future?"
How could I help admiring him, with his grand belief in himself and all the world, his enthusiasm, his faith, ready to kick aside a mountain if it happened to stand in his way, his set purpose, which defied alike earth and sky, atmosphere, sun and universe?
"In any case," I said with a smile, "the present for you has one additional charm: you are already provided with a very beautiful bride."
"Yes, she is beautiful," he said quietly, "though I should say she was somewhat unpleasant at times."
"A genuine Cleopatra, Girlie; in looks at any rate."
"And probably in character. Think of it, Mark! Cleopatra alive to-day! The Cleopatra we all read of, all fell in love with, when we were in our teens, actually alive! and the Pharaoh, Kheops! Khefren! Mena himself! and these people still building to-day tombs which rival the pyramids of Ghizeh, and carve sphinxes and mammoth gods beside which the figures at Abu-Simnel are mere students' work!"
"And think of a real Pharaoh, Girlie, who is a real direct enemy."
Hugh frowned a little, then he laughed.
"Yes; he is no friend. He was the only one who did not believe the story of my interesting origin."
"He may be scientifically inclined, or perhaps his
