"Well start at once," said Isaacson, in a practical voice.
"Yes."
But the assent was very hesitating, and Hartley made no movement. Isaacson looked at him with sharply questioning eyes.
"I--I wish I was out of the case altogether," said the young man, weakly. "After this afternoon's row I seem to have lost all heart. I never have had such an unpleasant scene with any woman before. It makes the position extremely difficult. I don't know how she will receive us; I really don't. She never agreed to my proposition, and I left her looking dreadful."
"Mrs. Armine hates me. It's a pity. But I've got to think of the sick man. And so have you. Look here, Doctor Hartley, you and I have got over our little disagreement of this morning, and I hope we can be colleagues."
"I wish nothing better indeed," said the young man, earnestly.
"We'll go back to the Loulia. We'll see the patient. We'll have our consultation. And then if you still wish to get out of the case--"
"Really, I think I'd much rather. I've got friends waiting for me at Assouan."
"And I've got nobody waiting for me. Suppose the patient agrees, and you continue in the same mind, I'm willing to relieve you of all responsibility and take the whole thing into my own hands. And if at any time you come to London--"
"I may be coming this summer."
"Then I think I can be of use to you there. Shall we go?"
This time Doctor Hartley did move. A weight seemed lifted from his shoulders, and he went, almost with alacrity, towards the boat.
"After all, you are much my senior," he said, as they were getting in, "besides being an intimate friend of the patient. I don't think it would seem unnatural to any one."
"The most natural thing in the world!" said Isaacson, calmly. "Yes, Hassan, you can come with us. Come in the other boat. I may want you to do something for me later on."
The two doctors did not talk much as they were rowed towards the Loulia. Both were preoccupied. As they drew near to her, however, Doctor Hartley began to fidget. His bodily restlessness betrayed his mental uneasiness.
"I do hope she'll be reasonable," he said at length.
"I think she will."
"What makes you?"
"She's a decidedly clever woman."
"Clever--oh, yes, she is. She was very well known, wasn't she, once--in a certain way?"
"As a beauty--yes."
Isaacson's tone of voice was scarcely encouraging, and the other relapsed into silence and continued to fidget. But when they were close to the Loulia, almost under the blue light that shone at her mast-head, he said, in a low and secretive voice: "I think you had better take the lead, as you are my senior. It will appear more natural."