was ready to join the ladies--if I could. In passing earlier, I had
shouted to the maids where to find the places, grabbed with difficulty,
for their mistresses. Whether they had found them, or whether any of
the party still existed, was the next question; and it was settled only
as the train began to move. The compartment I had selected was boiling
over with a South American president and his effects; but as I stood
transfixed by this transformation scene, Cleopatra's maid hailed me
from the end of the corridor. _Les quatres dames_ were in the
restaurant car. Why? Ah, it was the Arab they had engaged as dragoman,
who had advised the change in milord's absence. He said it would be
better, as of course they would want dinner. He himself was looking
after the small _baggages_, except the little sacks of the hand which
the maids kept.

What, the ladies had engaged a dragoman! And they had trusted him--a
stranger--with luggage? Then it was as good as gone! But no, mildly
ventured Cleopatra's handmaiden. The dragoman came recommended. He had
a letter from a friend of milord.

My thoughts jumped, of course, to Anthony. Yet how could he have known
that I was travelling with ladies? And if by some Marconian miracle he
had heard, why should he, who prided himself on "not bothering" with
women, trouble to provide a dragoman at Alexandria?

I hurried to the dining car, and found Monny with her satellites seated
at a table, three of them looking as calmly innocent as if they had not
upset my well-laid scheme for their comfort. Biddy alone had a guilty
air, because, perhaps, I was more important in her eyes than in the
eyes of the others. "Oh, dear Duffer," she began to wheedle me: "We
hope you don't mind our coming here? We thought it a good idea, for