"He says he comes at the instance of his highness the viceroy." "If that is the case," said Sitta Nefysseh, quietly, "let him enter." One of the women opened the door, and the cadi, the chief of police, appeared on the threshold; behind him stood four policement with pistols and daggers in their belts, their hands on their swords. "Were my women right? " asked Sitta Nefysseh, with dignity. "You come in the name of his highness the viceroy?" "Yes," replied the cadi, with a slight bow. "Yes, I come in his highness's name. The viceroy commands that Mourad Bey's widow accompany me at once to his presence, to the citadel." "And with what right?" asked she quietly. "I know not and care not," said the official, with an air of indifference; "here is the order." He drew from his pocket a document, to which large seals were appended, and handed it to her. Sitta Nefysseh looked at it, and returned it with perfect composure. "You are right, it is the viceroy's order. I will obey. Order the carriage to be driven to the door." She said this in such imperious tones that the cadi, at other times a proud man, and a high dignitary of the viceroy's court, could not but obey her, and stepped out and delivered her command to one of his officers. He then returned to Sitta Nefysseh. "I have orders to leave a guard in your house," said he. "Then do so," said she, quietly. "The viceroy is master over us all, and it seems there is no law here in Cairo but his will. Obey him, therefore. Leave a guard in my house." He seemed not to notice the mockery in her words, and bowed in silence. "No one may enter or leave your house during your absence." "Why do you say this to me? Say it to those who may desire to leave it after I have gone, and who may be alarmed. I am not alarmed; my conscience does not accuse me. My carriage is ready--let us go. I trust, however, that the viceroy does not require me to appear before him alone; it is becoming that Mourad's Bey's widow should be accompanied by her women when she goes out." "I am not instructed to refuse such a request; yet, there must not be more of them than your carriage will contain." "Two of my servants will accompany me," said she. Without once looking back into the room, or manifesting any fear or anxiety whatever, she stepped out into the vestibule, and, beckoning to two of the weeping women who had assembled about her, commanded them to follow her. "You others need fear nothing," said she with perfect composure. "The cadi leaves his guards here to protect you, against whom I know not, but certainly against someone." Taking leave of her servants with a kindly nod, and drawing her veil more closely about her, she walked proudly out into the court-yard to the carriage.