A league away, in the hotels of Luxor, I can fancy how they have hurried away from the tables, for fear of missing the celebrated spectacle.

For me, therefore, it is time to beat a retreat, and, by the great avenue again, I direct my steps towards the pylons of the Ptolemies, where the night guards are waiting.
They are busy already, these Bedouins, in opening the gates for some tourists, who have shown their permits, and who carry Kodaks, magnesium to light up the temples--quite an outfit in short.
Farther on, when I have taken the road to Luxor, it is not long before I meet, under the palm-trees and on the sands, the crowd, the main body of the arrivals--some in carriages, some on horseback, some on donkeys.
There is a noise of voices speaking all sorts of non-Egyptian languages.
One is tempted to ask: "What is happening?
A ball, a holiday, a grand marriage ?" No.

The moon is full to-night at Thebes, upon the ruins.

That is all..