“I have not a reputation for lying,” rejoined Dicky quietly. “But see!” he added; and throwing open a door, pointed to where the Chief Eunuch stood with Mahommed Yeleb, Mustapha Bey gagged and bound between them. Dicky shut the door again, as Selamlik Pasha shrank back among the cushions, cowardice incarnate. “You thought,” said Dicky with a soft fierceness, “you thought that I would stoop to bargain with Selamlik Pasha and not know my way out of the bargain? You thought an Englishman would beg, even for a life, of such as you! You thought me, Donovan Pasha, such a fool!” “Mercy, Excellency!” said Selamlik, spreading out his hands. Dicky laughed. “You called me names, Selamlik--a dog, and the son of a dog with a dog’s heart. Was it wise?” “Is there no way? Can no bargain be made?” Dicky sat down, lighting a cigarette. “To save a scandal in Egypt,” answered Dicky drily, “I am ready to grant you terms.” “Speak-Excellency.” “The life of the Englishman for the life of your son and your own. Also, the freedom of the six Circassian slaves whom you house now at Beni Hassan, ready to bring to your palace. Also, for these slaves two hundred Turkish pounds apiece. Also, your written word that you will bring no more slaves into Egypt. Is the bargain fair?” “Mizraim may still betray us,” said Selamlik, trembling, with relief, but yet apprehensive. “Mizraim is in my power--he acts for me,” said Dicky. “Whose life is safe here save my own?” “Malaish! It shall be as your will is, Excellency,” answered Selamlik Pasha, in a shaking voice; and he had time to wonder even then how an Englishman could so outwit an Oriental. It was no matter how Mustapha Bey, his son, was lured; he had been seized in the harem, and all truth can be forsworn in Egypt, and the game was with this Donovan Pasha. “Send to your palace, commanding 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?”