nd as Dicky drew nearer and looked him
in the eyes, he came to his feet again, his long body gathering itself
slowly up, as though for deliberate action. He felt trouble in the air,
matters of moment, danger for himself, though of precisely what sort
was not clear. He took a step forward, as though to shield the lady from
possible affront.

"I fancy they want to see me," he said. He recognised the
officer--Foulik Pasha of the Khedive's household.

The Pasha salaamed. Dicky drew over to the lady, with a keen warning
glance at Kingsley. The Pasha salaamed again, and Kingsley responded in
kind. "Good-day to you, Pasha," he said.

"May the dew of the morning bring flowers to your life, Excellency," was
the reply. He salaamed now towards the lady, and Kingsley murmured his
name to her.

"Will you not be seated," she said, and touched a chair as though to
sit down, yet casting a doubtful glance at the squad of men and the
brilliant kavass drawn up near by. The Pasha looked from one to the
other, and Kingsley spoke.

"What is it, Pasha? Her ladyship doesn't know why she should be
honoured."

"But that makes no difference," she interposed. "Here is coffee--ah,
that's right, cigarettes too! But, yes, you will take my coffee, Pasha,"
she urged.

The insolent look which had gathered in the man's face cleared away. He
salaamed, hesitated, and took the coffee, then salaamed again to her.

She had caught at a difficulty; an instinctive sense of peril had taken
possession of her; and, feeling that the danger was for the Englishman
who had come to her out of her old life, she had interposed a diplomatic
moment. She wanted to gain time before the mystery broke over her. She
felt something at stake for herself. Premonition, a troubling of the
spirit, told her that she was in the presence of a crisis out of which
she would not come unchanged.

Dicky was talking now, helping her--asking the Pasha questions of his
journey up the river, of the last news from Europe, of the Khedive's
health, though he and Kingsley had only left Cairo a half-day before the
Pasha.

The officer thanked the lady and salaamed again, then turned towards
Kingsley.

"You wished to speak with me, perhaps, Pasha," said Kingsley.

"If a moment of your time may have so little honour, saadat el bey."

Kingsley moved down the veranda shoulder to shoulder with the Pasha, and
the latter's men, responding to a glance, moved down also. Kingsley saw,
but gave