Azim Bey had been cheering on the soldiers from his coign of vantage on the house-top, but he was the first to descend, and was ready to meet them when the gate was opened. His fear and his anger and his excitement had now alike passed away, and he was his usual courteous, grown-up little self, thanking Sir Dugald for his hospitality and protection, and Captain Rossiter and the Sepoys for their timely aid. Notwithstanding his affability, however, he displayed great anxiety to get back to the Palace, and would not hear of allowing Cecil to remain at the Residency even for the night, in spite of Lady Haigh’s declaring that she would not permit her to leave it. It was obviously impossible for her to mount a donkey, and Charlie was firm on this point, although, remembering his encounter with Azim Bey, he kept in the background as much as he could, for fear of getting Cecil into trouble with her pupil and his father. Baghdad could produce a few carriages, but the streets were far too rough and narrow to admit of their use. At last an antiquated litter, borne by two mules, was procured from the Palace, and Cecil was helped into it and made comfortable with cushions. Then the gold-embroidered curtains were drawn, and the procession started, Azim Bey riding in front of the litter on a horse lent by Sir Dugald, while the soldiers formed an escort on either side. “Do you know, Cousin Elma,” said Charlie, as the party at the Residency lingered on the verandah after dinner to discuss the exciting events of the day, “I fancy”--he lowered his voice as he glanced across at Sir Dugald and Captain Rossiter, who were deep in an argument on the probable effects of the battering-ram if it had been used--“I can’t help thinking that that small boy has taken it into his head to be jealous.” “It’s quite possible, Charlie. My youngest brother was frantically jealous when I was engaged, though you mayn’t believe it.” “But that was quite different. He had something to take hold of; but really I can’t think what that little wretch has seen--until to-day, at any rate.” “Charlie, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, in her most maternal tone, “let me give you one piece of advice. You are perfectly at liberty to think yourself a fool if you like, but never let yourself imagine that Azim Bey is one. If he ever permits you to think so, that will only show how well he is fooling you.”