of water, but in a very decent apartment indeed, and Dicky was trying to
work the new situation out in his mind. The only thing to do was to have
Kingsley removed to a mud-cell, and not let him know the author of his
temporary misfortune and this new indignity. She was ready to visit him
now--he could see that. He made difficulties, however, which would
prevent their going at once, and he arranged with her to go to Kingsley
in the late afternoon.

Her mind was in confusion, but one thing shone clear through the
confusion, and it was the iniquity of the Khedive. It gave her a
foothold. She was deeply grateful for it. She could not have moved
without it. So shameful was the Khedive in her eyes that the prisoner
seemed Criminal made Martyr.

She went back to her hotel flaming with indignation against Ismail.
It was very comforting to her to have this resource. The six slaves
whom she had freed--the first-fruits of her labours: that they should be
murdered! The others who had done no harm, who had been slaves by
Ismail's consent, that they should be now in danger of their lives
through the same tyrant! That Kingsley Bey, who had been a slave-master
with Ismail's own approval and to his advantage, should now--she glowed
with pained anger. . . . She would not wait till she had seen
Kingsley Bey, or Donovan Pasha again; she herself would go to Ismail
at once.

So, she went to Ismail, and she was admitted, after long waiting in an
anteroom. She would not have been admitted at all, if it had not been
for Dicky, who, arriving just before her on the same mission, had seen
her coming, and guessed her intention. He had then gone in to the
Khedive with a new turn to his purposes, a new argument and a new