all of us. . . . An old friend--bad as he is! Yes, I will go."

Within forty-eight hours of Donovan Pasha's and Kingsley Bey's arrival in
Cairo the lady appeared there, and made inquiries of her friends. No one
knew anything. She went to the Consulate, and was told that Kingsley Bey
was still in prison, that the Consulate had not yet taken action.

She went to Donovan Pasha, and he appeared far more mysterious and
troubled than he really was. Kingsley Bey was as cheerful as might be
expected, he said, but the matter was grave. He was charged with the
destruction of the desert-city, and maintaining an army of slaves in the
Khedive's dominions--a menace to the country.

"But it was with the Khedive's connivance," she said. "Who can prove
that? It's a difficult matter for England to handle, as you can see."

This was very wily of Dicky Donovan, for he was endeavouring to create
alarm and sympathy in the woman's mind by exaggerating the charge. He
knew that in a few days at most Kingsley Bey would be free. He had
himself given Ismail a fright, and had even gone so far as to suggest
inside knowledge of the plans of Europe concerning Egypt. But if he
could deepen the roots of this comedy for Kingsley's benefit--and for the
lady's--it was his duty so to do.

"Of course," he made haste to add, "you cannot be expected to feel
sympathy for him. In your eyes, he is a criminal. He had a long
innings, and made a mint of money. We must do all we can, and, of
course, we'll save his life--ah, I'm sure you wouldn't exact the fullest
penalty on him!"