He spread out a hand with a little grasping motion. "Have I saved the
old stand off there in Cumberland by the sea, where you can see the snow
on Skaw Fell? Have I? Do you wonder that I laugh? Ye gods and little
fishes! I've had to wear a long face years enough--seven hard years,
seven fearful years, when I might be murdered by a slave, and I and my
slaves might be murdered by some stray brigade, under some general of
Ismail's, working without orders, without orders, of course--oh, very
much of course! Why shouldn't I play the boy to-day, little Dicky
Donovan? I am a Mahommedan come Christian again. I am a navvy again
come gentleman. I am an Arab come Englishman once more.

"I am an outcast come home. I am a dead man come to life."

Dicky leaned over and laid a hand on his knee. "You are a credit to
Cumberland," he said. "No other man could have done it. I won't ask any
more questions. Anything you want of me, I am with you, to do, or say,
or be."

"Good. I want you to go to Assiout to-morrow."

"Will you see Ismail first? It might be safer--good policy."

"I will see My Lady first. . . . Trust me. I know what I'm doing.
You will laugh as I do." Laughter broke from his lips. It was as though
his heart was ten years old. Dicky's eyes moistened. He had never seen
anything like it--such happiness, such boyish confidence. And what had
not this man experienced! How had he drunk misfortune to the dregs!
What unbelievable optimism had been his! How had he been at once hard
and kind, tyrannical and human, defiant and peaceful, daring yet
submissive, fierce yet just! And now, here, with so much done, with a