nding that the Englishman be brought here,"
said Dicky. Selamlik Pasha did so.

Sowerby of the Mounted Infantry was freed that night, and the next day
Dicky Donovan had six Circassian slaves upon his hands. He passed them
over to the wife of Fielding Bey with whom he had shared past secrets
and past dangers.

Selamlik Pasha held his peace in fear; and the Khedive and Cairo never
knew why there was a truce to battle between Dicky Donovan and that vile
Pasha called Trousers.

AT THE MERCY OF TIBERIUS

In a certain year when Dicky Donovan was the one being in Egypt who had
any restraining influence on the Khedive, he suddenly asked leave of
absence to visit England. Ismail granted it with reluctance, chiefly
because he disliked any interference with his comforts, and Dicky was
one of them--in some respects the most important.

"My friend," he said half petulantly to Dicky, as he tossed the plans
for a new palace to his secretary and dismissed him, "are you not happy
here? Have you not all a prince can give?"

"Highness," answered Dicky, "I have kith and kin in England. Shall a man
forget his native land?" The Khedive yawned, lighted a cigarette, and
murmured through the smoke: "Inshallah! It might be pleasant--betimes."

"I have your Highness's leave to go?" asked Dicky. "May God preserve
your head from harm!" answered Ismail in farewell salutation, and,
taking a ring from his finger set with a large emerald, he gave it to
Dicky. "Gold is scarce in Egypt," he went on, "but there are jewels
still in the palace--and the Khedive's promises-to-pay with every
money-barber of Europe!" he added, with a cynical sneer, and touched his
forehead and his breast courteously as Dicky retired.

Outside the presence Dicky unbuttoned his coat like an Englishman again,
and ten minutes later flung his tarboosh into a corner of the room; for
the tarboosh was the sign of official servitude, and Dicky was never
the perfect official. Initiative was his strong point, independence his
life; he loathed the machine of system in so far as he could not command
it; he revolted at being a cog in the wheel. Ismail had discovered this,
and Dicky had been made a kind of confidential secretary who seldom
wrote a line. By his influence with Ismail he had even more power at
last than the Chief Eunuch or the valet-de-chambre, before whom the
highest officials bowed low. He was hated profoundly by many of the
household, cultivated by certain of t