"Well, I shall call them dragomen. And if this poor thing can't get any
one else to drag, he _shall_ drag us up the Nile, if he's as
intelligent in his ways as he is in that one eye, which is so like a
hard-boiled egg. You see, Lord Ernest, we're going to have a boat of
our own. A steam dahabeah is what we want, so we won't be at the mercy
of the wind. And we can have all the dragomen we choose, can't we?"

"I suppose you can fill up your cabins with them," I agreed, because I
felt that the Gilded Rose wished me to argue the point, and that if I
did I should be worsted. As I should not be on board the dahabeah in
question, it would not matter to me personally if the boat were
entirely manned by dragomans. Except that there would in that case
probably be a collision, and I should not be near to save Biddy--and
incidentally the girl Biddy wished me to marry.

After that, we went on eating our dinner and talking of Egypt, Miss
Guest doing all the listening, as usual. When we had finished, we kept
our places because we had no others. Cleopatra was curious about my
friend's failure to arrive, but I put her off with vaguenesses; and
said to myself that, for Anthony's sake, it was well that mysterious
business had kept him in Cairo. Still, I wondered what the business
was: why he would be unable to see me that night: and what were the
"many things" he had to tell.




CHAPTER IV

A MAN IN A GREEN TURBAN