"Oh, dearest, I can't have you ride that grasshopper!" cried Biddy.
"'Antoun' took it for himself very kindly because it's the worst. And I
don't care any more than he did. Give the thing to me, and take _my_
one, that dear creature with the blue bead necklace."

But Anthony answered for Monny. "Mademoiselle Gilder made a bargain
with me yesterday," he said. "If she failed in what _she_ wanted to do,
she was to do what _I_ wanted her to do. I think she will wish to keep
her bargain."

"I'm _sure_ I wish to," added Monny.

With a chastened, not to say shattered air, she curled herself up on
the sheepskin-covered cushion which was the ugly Duckling's saddle.
This time it was "Antoun" who settled her into place, with her feet
meekly crossed; and the caricature of a camel rose like a sofa at a
spiritualistic seance. Strange to say, however, when all were ready to
start, Monny appeared more comfortably lodged than any of the
camel-riding ladies; and the thought entered my mind that perhaps Anthony
had, with extreme subtlety, taken this roundabout way of benefitting
Miss Gilder.

After this we got off with only a few minor mishaps. The one remaining
incident of note was the arrival on the scene, as we left it, of
another caravan--a small caravan consisting of two Europeans--a few
laden camels, and camel-boys marshalled by one dragoman. The dragoman
was Bedr el Gemaly, and he smiled at us as affectionately as though we
had not driven him from us in disgrace.