here was no
time to be lost.

He destroyed a good many letters and papers; stowed all his money, and
documents which meant money, about his person; packed a small valise
which he could carry in his hand, and started for the station. He
crossed the Channel that night, and got to Liverpool early on the
following morning. He knew--so carefully had he laid his plans--that
there was a trading vessel, with accommodation for two or three
passengers, which was advertised to start from the port of Liverpool for
Trieste that afternoon, and he would be unusually unlucky if he could
not get a passage in her. He found, indeed, no difficulty about that,
and might go on board at once if he liked.

Before he did so, however, he had a good meal on shore, and wrote a
letter to Mr Burrows regretting that he was forced to absent himself,
without leave, from the office. And then, his imagination warming as he
sat pen in hand, he told how his poor father, a stranger, speaking
little English, had arrived in London, and been there seized with a
serious illness; that he had not received the news till the night
before, and had started at once to see that his aged parent received
proper attention.

When the letter was finished, he went to the railway station and found a
guard, whom he asked whether he was going to London that night. The
guard said he was.

"Then I wish you would do me a favour," said Daireh. "A lady--a friend
of mine--wants to send a valentine to a man in Ireland, and is anxious
to mystify him. She has got me to direct it, and would like it to have
the London post-mark. Will you drop it in for her?"

He tendered the letter and a shilling, which the guard took with a grin
and an "All right, sir," and the foxy Egyptian walked back to the quay,
having done his best to put the police on a wrong scent when the
revelations of Stebbings should set them trying to track him. At the
same time he felt that he was taking needless trouble, making assurance
doubly sure; for, once at home in Alexandria, for which place he was
bound, he would be safe enough. Or, if there were any fear, he had only
to go up the Nile to Berber, where he had relatives, and what detective
dare follow him there, or dare touch him even if he did?

A more anxious consideration was--how to make any profit out of the
wills which he had stolen. To treat for their restitution, or even for
that of the last and true one, would be a very ticklish operation