"Oh, by Jove, yes--of course I did; but, hang it, in this hole, neither doors nor windows fit, and the locks are no good, and the bolts nowhere. He got in again somehow, and if I had not started up the moment I felt the knife, he'd have done for me. He would, by George. I wish I had a revolver." I went into Jameson's room. Again he insisted on my looking at his throat. "It's very good of you to say there is no wound," said he. "But you won't gull me with words. I felt his knife in my windpipe, and if I had not jumped out of bed----" "You locked your door. No one could enter. Look in the glass, there is not even a scratch. This is pure imagination." "I'll tell you what, old fellow, I won't sleep in that room again. Change with me, there's a charitable buffer. If you don't believe in Musty, Musty won't hurt you, maybe--anyhow you can try if he's solid or a phantom. Blow me if the knife felt like a phantom." "I do not quite see my way to changing rooms," I replied; "but this I will do for you. If you like to go to bed again in your own apartment, I will sit up with you till morning." "All right," answered Jameson. "And if Musty comes in again, let out at him and do not spare him. Swear that." I accompanied Jameson once more to his bedroom, Little as I liked the man, I could not deny him my presence and assistance at this time. It was obvious that his nerves were shaken by what had occurred, and he felt his relation to Mustapha much more than he cared to show. The thought that he had been the cause of the poor fellow's death preyed on his mind, never strong, and now it was upset with imaginary terrors. I gave up letter writing, and brought my Baedeker's _Upper Egypt_ into Jameson's room, one of the best of all guide-books, and one crammed with information. I seated myself near the light, and with my back to the bed, on which the young man had once more flung himself. "I say," said Jameson, raising his head, "is it too late for a brandy-and-soda?" "Everyone is in bed." "What lazy dogs they are. One never can get anything one wants here." "Well, try to go to sleep." He tossed from side to side for some time, but after a while, either he was quiet, or I was engrossed in my Baedeker, and I heard nothing till a clock struck twelve. At the last stroke I heard a snort and then a gasp and a cry from the bed. I started up, and looked round. Jameson was slipping out with his feet onto the floor. "Confound you!" said he angrily, "you are a fine watch, you are, to let Mustapha steal in on tiptoe whilst you are cartouching and all that sort of rubbish. He was at me again, and if I had not been sharp he'd have cut my throat. I won't go to bed any more!" "Well, sit up. But I assure you no one has been here." "That's fine. How can you tell? You had your back to me, and these devils of fellows steal about like cats. You can't hear them till they are at you." It was of no use arguing with Jameson, so I let him have his way.