, to speak for him, to counsel with him,
to show the desert tribes that Egypt gives her noblest to rule and serve
them. There is but one man--Abdalla the Egyptian. A few years yonder in
the desert--power, glory, wealth won for Egypt, the strength of
thine arms known, the piety of thy spirit proven, thy name upon every
tongue--on thy return, who then should fear for Egypt!"

Dicky was playing a dangerous game, and Renshaw almost shrank from his
words. He was firing the Egyptian's mind, but to what course he knew
not. If to the Soudan, well; if to remain, what conflagration might not
occur! Dicky staked all.

"Here, once more, among thy people, returned from conquest and the years
of pilgrimage in the desert, like a prophet of old, thy zeal would lead
the people, and once more Egypt should bloom like the rose. Thou wouldst
be sirdar, mouffetish, pasha, all things soever. This thou wouldst be
and do, thou, Abdalla the Egyptian."

Dicky had made his great throw; and he sat back, perhaps a little paler
than was his wont, but apparently serene and earnest and steady.

The effect upon Abdalla could only be judged by his eyes, which burned
like fire as they fixed upon Dicky's face. The suspense was painful,
for he did not speak for a long time. Renshaw could have shrieked with
excitement. Dicky lighted a cigarette and tossed a comfit at a pariah
dog. At last Abdalla rose. Dicky rose with him.

"Thou, too, hast a great soul, or mine eyes are liars," Abdalla said.
"Thou lovest Egypt also. This Gordon--I am not his friend. I will not go
with him. But if thou goest also with Gordon, then I will go with thee.
If thou dost mean well by Egypt, and thy words are true, thou also wilt
go. As thou speakest, let it be."

A mist came before Dicky's eyes--the world seemed falling into space,
his soul was in a crucible. The struggle was like that of a man with
death, for this must change the course of his life, to what end God only
knew. All that he had been to Egypt, all that Egypt had been to him,
came to him. But he knew that he must not pause. Now was his moment,
and now only. Before the mist had cleared from his eyes he gave his hand
into Abdalla's.

"In God's name, so be it. I also will go with Gordon, and thou with me,"
he said.

HE WOULD NOT BE DENIED

"He was achin' for it--turrible achin' for it--an' he would not be
denied!" said Sergeant William Connor, of the Berkshire Regiment, in
the sergeants' mess at Suakim, t