d the last, bruised and dazed, got slowly to his feet.

"God is great," said Dicky to him: "I have no hurt, Mahommed."

"It is the will of God. Extolled be Him who created thee!" answered the
dervish, all suspicion gone, and admiration in his eyes, as Dicky cried
his Allah Kerim--"God is bountiful!"

A kavass touched Dicky on the arm.

"His Highness would speak with you," he said. Dicky gladly turned his
back on the long lane of frantic immolation and the sight of the wounded
and dead being carried away. Coming over to the Khedive he salaamed,
and kneeling on the ground touched the toe of Ismail's boot with his
forehead.

Ismail smiled, and his eyes dropped with satisfaction upon the prostrate
Dicky. Never before had an Englishman done this, and that Dicky, of all
Englishmen, should do it gave him an ironical pleasure which chased his
black humour away.

"It is written that the true believer shall come unscathed from the
hoofs of the horse. Thou hast no hurt, Mahommed?"

"None, Highness, whose life God preserve," said Dicky in faultless
Arabic, with the eyes of Sadik upon him searching his mystery.

"May the dogs bite the heart of thine enemies! What is thy name?" said
Ismail.

"Rekab, so God wills, Highness."

"Thine occupation?"

"I am a poor scribe, Highness," answered Dicky with a dangerous humour,
though he had seen a look in the Khedive's face which boded only safety.

"I have need of scribes. Get you to the Palace of Abdin, and wait upon
me at sunset after prayers," said Ismail.

"I am the slave of your Highness. Peace be on thee, O Prince of the
Faithful!"

"A moment, Mahommed. Hast thou wife or child?"

"None, Highness."

"Nor kith nor kin?" Ismail's smile was grim.

"They be far away, beyond the blessed rule of your Highness."

"Thou wilt desire to return to them. How long wilt thou serve me?" asked
Ismail slowly.

"Till the two Karadh-gatherers return," answered Dicky, quoting the old
Arabic saying which means for ever, since the two Karadh-gatherers who
went to gather the fruit of the sant and the leaves of the selem never
returned.

"So be it," said the Khedive, and, rising, waved Dicky away. "At
sunset!"

"At sunset after prayers, Highness," answered Dicky, and was instantly
lost in the throng which now crowded upon the tent to see the Sheikh of
the Dosah arrive to make obeisance to Ismail.

That night at sunset, Dicky, once more clothed and shaven and well
appointed, but bron