phrases, then turn a little pale, then grow stern.

She saw him, after a sleepless night, haunted by her warnings, her appeal
to his English manhood. She saw him rise, meditative and relenting, and
send forthwith these slaves for her to free. Her eye glistened again,
as it had shone while she had written of this thing to the British Consul
at Cairo, to her father in England, who approved of her sympathies and
lamented her actions. Had her crusade been altogether fruitless, she
asked herself. Ismail's freed Circassian was in her household, being
educated like an English girl, lifted out of her former degradation, made
to understand "a higher life"; and yesterday she had sent away six
liberated slaves, with a gold-piece each, as a gift from a free woman to
free men. It seemed to her for a moment now, as she sat musing and
looking, that her thirty years of life had not been--rather, might not
be-in vain.

There was one other letter she would write--to Donovan Pasha, who had not
been ardent in her cause, yet who might have done so much through his
influence with Ismail, who, it was said, liked him better than any
Englishman he had known, save Gordon. True, Donovan Pasha had steadily
worked for the reduction of the corvee, and had, in the name of the
Khedive, steadily reduced private corvee, but he had never set his face
against slavery, save to see that no slave-dealing was permitted below
Assouan. Yet, with her own eyes she had seen Abyssinian slaves sold
in the market-place of Assiout. True, when she appealed to him, Donovan
Pasha had seen to it that the slave-dealers were severely punished, but
the fact remained that he was unsympathetic on the large issue. When
appealed to, the British Consul had petulantly told her that Donovan
Pasha was doing more important work. Yet she could only think of England
as the engine of civilisation, as an evangelising power, as the John the