“No, indeed,” said Lady Haigh, resolutely. “You let me in for one _faux pas_, Charlie, when you frightened me into sending you to the Palace before, and that is not a pleasant thing for a woman in my position to have to remember. How it is that we have never had any remonstrance about your invasion of the harem precincts on that occasion I cannot imagine, unless you bribed Masûd heavily. Well, there is not going to be any repetition of that sort of thing. Cecil is getting on perfectly well, and Um Yusuf and old Ayesha and Basmeh Kalfa all nurse her devotedly, so you must be content with that.” And very much against his will, Charlie was obliged to be content with that, and did not even see Cecil when she was better, for as soon as she was convalescent she was sent with Azim Bey and their attendants to the house of Naimeh Khanum, the Pasha’s married daughter, at Hillah, to recruit. The journey of fifty miles was performed in great state, under the conduct of a large escort of mounted Bashi Bazouks. Three of the Pasha’s own horses, with splendid trappings, were led in the forefront of the procession, and flags and kettle-drums gave it a martial air. The way lay entirely through the desert, and the prospect was always the same, the wide sandy plains being crossed and recrossed by the dry channels of the ancient irrigation canals, now choked and useless, even the drinking-water having to be carried in leathern bottles. At night halts were made at the fortified khans on the road, where the terror of the Pasha’s name proved sufficient to ensure the provision of all necessaries for the travellers. The journey was taken in easy stages, that Cecil’s strength might not be overtasked, and it was not until four days after leaving Baghdad that the palm-groves and the mighty rubbish-heaps of Hillah came in sight. Cecil felt her strength and her enthusiasm revive at the prospect. Before her lay the ruins of Babylon! She entreated that they might turn aside to visit them at once, but Um Yusuf proved most unsympathetic, and scornfully refused to communicate her mistress’s wish to the leader of the caravan. Who cared about old ruins, haunted by ghouls and jinn, and just at the fever-time too? Did Mdlle. Antaza wish to throw her life away? Cecil yielded with a sigh, and the procession passed on through the palm-groves, where the ripening dates hung like bunches of golden grapes, to the house of Said Bey, Naimeh Khanum’s husband, who was the military governor of Hillah.