justice. As Dicky had said: "Let him die--for what he has done, not for
something he has not done. Send him to the devil with a true bill of
crime." So it was that Dicky, who shrank from the creature whom
Ministers and Pashas fawned upon--so powerful was his unique position in
the palace--went straight to him now to get his quid-pro-quo, his measure
for measure.

The tall, black-coated, smooth-faced creature, silent and watchful and
lean, stepped through the doorway with the footfall of a cat. He slid
forward, salaamed to the floor-Dicky wondered how a body could open and
shut so like the blade of a knife--and, catching Dicky's hand, kissed it.

"May thy days be watered with the dew of heaven, saadat el basha," said
the Chief Eunuch.

"Mine eyes have not seen since thy last withdrawal," answered Dicky
blandly, in the high-flown Oriental way.

"Thou hast sent for me. I am thy slave."

"I have sent for thee, Mizraim. And thou shalt prove thyself, once for
all, whether thy hand moves as thy tongue speaks."

"To serve thee I will lay down my life--I will blow it from me as the
wind bloweth the cotton flower. Have I not spoken thus since the Feast
of Beiram, now two years gone?"

Dicky lowered his voice. "Both Mustapha Bey, that son of the he-wolf
Selamlik Pasha, still follow the carriage of the Khedive's favourite,
and hang about the walls, and seek to corrupt thee with gold, Mahommed