per, so our earnest desire to make the
addressee's closer acquaintance was thwarted.

Stamboul was naturally an active centre, and, before the Turks entered
the War, Turkish officers in full uniform, and sometimes even wearing
swords, permeated Cairo cafes with espionage and verbal propaganda,
trying to fan into flame the military ardour of Egyptian students and
men about town. This last activity was wasted effort, as anyone who knew
the type could have told them; the effendis abstained from the crudities
of personal service and confined themselves to stirring up the town
riffraff, who wanted a safer form of villainy than open riot, and the
_fellahin_, who wanted a safe market for their produce and easy
taxation, both of which they stood to lose by violence. Many a _fellah_
still believes that the War was a myth created by the authorities to put
prices up. Even Teuton activity failed to stimulate these placid folk,
and the glad tidings preached by the madder type of German missionary
that the Kaiser was the Messiah left them unmoved.

When the Turks came in against us, and the ex-Khedive, safe among his
new-found friends, threw off the mask, the Cairene effendis became
tremendously active. Forgetting how they had disliked Abbas II and
called him a huckstering profligate, they mourned for his deposal by
wearing black ties, especially the students. Some of these enthusiastic
young heroes even went so far as to scatter chlorate of potash crackers
about when their school was visited by poor old Sultan Husein (who was
worth six of his predecessor), and he got quite a shock, which was
flagrantly and noisomely accentuated by asafoetida bomblets.

The ex-Khedive did not share their patriotic grief. He was quite
comfortable while awaiting the downfall of British rule, for, with
shrewd prescience that almost seems inspired, he had taken prudent
measures for his future comfort and luxury before leaving Egypt on his
usual summer tour to Europe. He had mortgaged real estate up to the
hilt, realised on immobile property as far as possible, and diverted his
fluid assets through various channels beyond the reach of his sorrowing
subjects and the Egyptian Government. When an official inventory was
taken in Abdin Palace at the accession of the late Sultan Husein, it was
ascertained that the famous inlaid and begemmed coffee-service, which,
like our Crown jewels, was not supposed to leave the country, had been
sent after the ex-Khedive