When this letter had been despatched by a special messenger, Cecil breathed more freely, and wrote a little note to the Residency, asking Lady Haigh to send her any boys’ books she might happen to have. Without Cecil’s intending it in the slightest, her hasty scribble produced an extraordinary effect at the Residency. As has already been said, she had been suffering from fever, and had not, in consequence, been able to avail herself of her Sunday liberty for a fortnight. She had been attended by the Pasha’s own physician, who had gone in person to the Residency to report to Lady Haigh on the condition of his patient, but Lady Haigh was not satisfied. She herself had hurt her foot and could not get to the Palace to see Cecil, and she was nervous and low-spirited about her, and feared that she was not properly taken care of. The hurried pencil note, with its uneven writing, seemed to her to confirm her fears, and she was hobbling to Sir Dugald’s office to look for him and insist upon his doing something, when she remembered that he had gone to see the Pasha. Happily she came across Charlie instead, and he sympathised fully with her apprehensions. “Yes, Cousin Elma, it does look bad. It seems to me very much as if they were keeping her shut up and she couldn’t write without exciting suspicion. She gets hold of a scrap of paper and scribbles as plain a message as she dares without actually asking for help. You see from the writing that she must have been agitated and excited. I certainly think that this note ought to be answered in person.” “And my wretched foot!” groaned poor Lady Haigh. “Oh, I’ll go for you, Cousin Elma,” said Charlie, hastily. “It might not do to wait until Sir Dugald comes back. I don’t feel at all sure about that illness of Miss Anstruther’s. It may be all a fraud on the part of the _hakim bashi_ (doctor). At any rate, if you will write a note saying that I am the surgeon of the Residency come to see Mademoiselle Antaza professionally, they must let me in. Of course, if you have the books, I may as well take them with me, in case it’s all right.” About an hour afterwards, in consequence of this colloquy, Cecil and her pupil, who had begun their evening lessons, were disturbed by hearing Masûd’s warning cry of “_Dastûr! Dastûr!_” Much surprised that the Pasha should pay his son a visit at this unwonted hour, Cecil and the other women hurriedly assumed their veils, presenting thereby an extremely grotesque aspect to Charlie as he approached, preceded by the much-perturbed Masûd. He could not help laughing to see the women instantaneously transforming themselves into closely swathed bundles at his appearance, and Azim Bey marked his levity with displeasure. “This gentleman is an acquaintance of yours, mademoiselle?” he inquired frigidly, noticing that Cecil started. “How do you do, Dr Egerton?” she asked, in some confusion. “May I present to you Dr Egerton from the English Consulate, Bey?”