vil was in it. Two Greek teams playing at football
stopped their game and gazed open-mouthed; young naval cadets at
leapfrog rushed with shouts of excitement towards the aeroplane; and a
crowd of Jewish factory girls (for all races and classes use this
common playground), realizing with quick wit what it meant, flocked up
with shrill cries: "C'est un aviateur: allons voir!" A grave old Turk
mutters: "Another mad Englishman!" A Greek shouts: "Come on, Pericles,
and have a look"; and suddenly, amid the babel of unknown tongues
Smith hears an unmistakable English voice: "Oh, confound it all,
Crawford, I'm in the ravine."

Peering through the crowd of inquisitive faces, Smith sees two golfers
and hails them heartily. They elbow their way through, and Smith, who
has not yet dared to leave the machine lest the mob should invade it
and do it an injury, steps out and grasps the hand of a fellow
Englishman.

"Well, I'm hanged!" cried the new-comer; "Charley Smith, of all men in
the world."

"Hullo, Johnson!" said Smith, recognizing in the speaker a messmate of
his middy days, now a naval officer in the Sultan's service; "I say,
you can do something for me."

"I dare say I can," replied the other laughing, "but where do you
spring from? I didn't know you were in these parts."

"Only arrived five minutes ago, from London."

Johnson stared.

"Not in that machine?"

"Yes, certainly. Eight hours' run; a record, isn't it? But I'm short
of petrol. There's some ordered by wire from a man named Benzonana;
can you put me in the way of getting it quickly?"

"Of course. Benzonana's a Jew, with stores at Kourshounlou Han. But
there's no hurry. We'll get some one to look after your aeroplane, and
you'll come back with me to the club: this sort of thing doesn't
happen every day, old man. By Jove! Do you really mean to say you've
got here in eight hours from London?"

"I left there at 12.35 this morning. Barracombe--you remember him--saw
me off. But I'm sorry I can't come with you, Dick. I've only a couple
of hours to spare, and must get the petrol at once."

"My dear chap, are you mad? You can't go on at once, after eight hours
in the air. You'll crock up. Of course, if it's a wager--"

"It's a matter of life and death."

"Oh, in that case! But I'm afraid you won't get off in two hours.
Things go slow in this country, and here's the first obstacle."

He pointed beyond the crowd, and Smith saw a troop of cavalry
approaching a