It was Um Yusuf who first scented something wrong. Cecil could never discover whether her silent attendant had suspected that mischief was brewing, and had laid her plans accordingly, or not; but it is certain that she could not be found when Azim Bey desired to speak to her, and give her a few directions for her mistress’s comfort before he went out, and that she reappeared some time after his departure, with the excuse that she had met her cousin in the bazaar and had been having a talk with her. This she explained volubly in the presence of Basmeh Kalfa and old Ayesha, and then curled herself up on the carpet for her mid-day nap; but as soon as the other two had dropped off to sleep, she rose, and approaching Cecil with her finger on her lips, laid a note on the table before her. The handwriting was Lady Haigh’s, and Cecil tore the envelope open in alarm. The letter was short:-- “My dearest Cecil,--Come to me _immediately_. Let _nothing_ prevent you, if you wish to escape _eternal regret_. Put on your riding-habit under your sheet, and bring _no one_ but Um Yusuf.” “You go, mademoiselle?” asked Um Yusuf in a whisper, as she met Cecil’s terrified eyes. Cecil nodded, and rose from her table. They passed on tiptoe between the sleeping women (Um Yusuf had adroitly placed herself in such a position that they could not block the door) and gained their own rooms. Um Yusuf knew only that the note had been placed in her hand by a cavass from the Consulate, with a warning to deliver it secretly and at once, together with an intimation that the man would wait at a certain spot outside the Palace to escort Mdlle. Antaza to the Residency, if she decided to come. More she could not tell, and Cecil hurried into her riding-habit and arranged the sheet over it. They left the courtyard without remark, for Masûd was in attendance on Azim Bey, and at the great gate the guards knew them and let them pass. They met the cavass at the appointed place, and hastened through the streets to the Residency under his guardianship. At the gate they were met by Mr D’Silva, one of the clerks, who took them to Lady Haigh at once. “O, Lady Haigh, what is it?” gasped Cecil. “It is a great trouble, dear,” said Lady Haigh, taking her in her arms. “Is it Charlie?” “Yes, dear; it is Charlie.” CHAPTER XIX. “BETWIXT MY LOVE AND ME.” “Is he--is he----” faltered Cecil. “Not _dead_, my dear? oh no! how could you imagine that?” cried Lady Haigh, in great excitement; “nor hurt, nor even in danger, I hope, at present. But the horses are ready. Let us start at once, and I will tell you about it as we go along. Mr D’Silva is coming with us.” They left the Residency and rode in single file through the narrow streets of the city; but once outside the gate, Mr D’Silva withdrew to a respectful distance with the cavasses, and Lady Haigh and Cecil were left side by side.