RD. I do. And I suppose you will expect me to accompany you.

RANKIN. 'Tis not safe, Leddy Ceecily. Really and truly, 'tis not safe.
The tribes are verra fierce; and there are cities here that no Christian
has ever set foot in. If you go without being well protected, the first
chief you meet well seize you and send you back again to prevent his
followers murdering you.

LADY CICELY. Oh, how nice of him, Mr. Rankin!

RANKIN. He would not do it for your sake, Leddy Ceecily, but for his
own. The Sultan would get into trouble with England if you were killed;
and the Sultan would kill the chief to pacify the English government.

LADY CICELY. But I always go everywhere. I KNOW the people here won't
touch me. They have such nice faces and such pretty scenery.

SIR HOWARD (to Rankin, sitting down again resignedly). You can imagine
how much use there is in talking to a woman who admires the faces of the
ruffians who infest these ports, Mr. Rankin. Can anything be done in the
way of an escort?

RANKIN. There is a certain Captain Brassbound here who trades along the
coast, and occasionally escorts parties of merchants on journeys into
the interior. I understand that he served under Gordon in the Soudan.

SIR HOWARD. That sounds promising. But I should like to know a little
more about him before I trust myself in his hands.

RANKIN. I quite agree with you, Sir Howrrd. I'll send Felix Drinkwotter
for him. (He claps his hands. An Arab boy appears at the house door.)
Muley: is sailor man here? (Muley nods.) Tell sailor man bring captain.
(Muley nods and goes.)

SIR HOWARD. Who is Drinkwater?

RANKIN. His agent, or mate: I don't rightly know which.

LADY CICELY. Oh, if he has a mate named Felix Drinkwater, it must be
quite a respectable crew. It is such a nice name.

RANKIN. You saw him here just now. He is a convert of mine.

LADY CICELY (delighted). That nice truthful sailor!

SIR HOWARD (horrified). What! The Hooligan!

RANKIN (puzzled). Hooligan? No, my lord: he is an Englishman.

SIR HOWARD. My dear Mr. Rankin, this man was tried before me on a charge
of street ruffianism.

RANKIN. So he told me. He was badly broat up, I am afraid. But he is now
a converted man.

LADY CICELY. Of course he is. His telling you so frankly proves it. You
know, really, Howard, all those poor people whom you try are more sinned
against than sinning. If you would only talk to them in a friendly way
instead of passing cruel sentences