forehead, his lips, and his heart three times, and then reached out a
hand to Dicky and touched his palm. Three times they touched palms, and
then Abdalla saluted Renshaw in the same fashion, making the gestures
once only.

From the citadel came the boom of the evening gun. Without a word
Abdalla left them, and, going apart, he turned his face towards Mecca and
began his prayers. The court-yard of the mosque was now empty, save for
themselves alone.

The two walked apart near the deserted fountain in the middle of the
court-yard. "The friendship of man is like the shade of the acacia. Yet
while the friendship lives, it lives. When God wills it to die, it
dies!" mused Dicky with a significant smile. "Friendship walks on thin
ice in the East, Yankee."

"See here, Donovan Pasha, I don't like taking this kind of risk without a
gun," said Renshaw.

"You're an official, a diplomat; you mustn't carry a gun."

"It's all very fine, but it was a close shave for both of us. You've got
an object--want to get something out of it. But what do I get for my
money?"

"Perhaps the peace of Europe. Perhaps a page of reminiscences for the
'New York World'. Perhaps some limelight chapters of Egyptian history.
Perhaps a little hari-kari. Don't you feel it in the air?" Dicky drew
in a sibilant breath. "All this in any other country would make you
think you were having a devil of a time. It's on the regular 'menoo'