AT THE MERCY OF TIBERIUS

In a certain year when Dicky Donovan was the one being in Egypt who had
any restraining influence on the Khedive, he suddenly asked leave of
absence to visit England. Ismail granted it with reluctance, chiefly
because he disliked any interference with his comforts, and Dicky was one
of them--in some respects the most important.

"My friend," he said half petulantly to Dicky, as he tossed the plans for
a new palace to his secretary and dismissed him, are you not happy here?
Have you not all a prince can give?"

"Highness," answered Dicky, "I have kith and kin in England. Shall a man
forget his native land?" The Khedive yawned, lighted a cigarette, and
murmured through the smoke: "Inshallah! It might be pleasant--betimes."

"I have your Highness's leave to go?" asked Dicky. "May God preserve
your head from harm!" answered Ismail in farewell salutation, and,
taking a ring from his finger set with a large emerald, he gave it to
Dicky. "Gold is scarce in Egypt," he went on, "but there are jewels
still in the palace--and the Khedive's promises-to-pay with every money-
barber of Europe!" he added, with a cynical sneer, and touched his
forehead and his breast courteously as Dicky retired.

Outside the presence Dicky unbuttoned his coat like an Englishman again,
and ten minutes later flung his tarboosh into a corner of the room; for
the tarboosh was the sign of official servitude, and Dicky was never the