“I must beg of you not to come, as I decline to start to-night.” Then, repenting of the tone of her message, she added, “I am longing to see you, but it is absolutely impossible for me to come before to-morrow morning.” This time no answer was returned; but after a while, during which she stood watching anxiously, and wondering whether Dick was actually on his way to fetch her, she saw a solitary flash. This was the sign that Fitz was beginning operations, and she signalled at once-- “What is Major North doing?” “Gone to his quarters,” came the answer, “in a vile temper. Excuse me, but this is true. Looks seedy, too; but he brought a surgeon with his force, so don’t worry about him.” “Please tell him from me----” began Georgia, but the flashes came again-- “He won’t let me in. Stratford is calling me. I must go.” Georgia left the heliograph with a sigh, for it was growing too late to catch the sunlight properly, and she had a hard piece of work before her this evening, the very crown and object, indeed, of her visit to Bir-ul-Malikat. Returning to Zeynab’s room, she found Khadija sitting crouched in her usual attitude upon the divan, and addressed her-- “I have performed what I promised, Khadija. Zeynab’s foot is getting on most satisfactorily, and needs only proper treatment and careful dressing, so that it is quite safe for me to return to Bir-ul-Malik to-morrow. I have shown the slave-girl, Bilkis, how to dress the wound, and I will send her over a good supply of lint and bandages and the other things I use, so that she may continue the treatment. She can do the work as well as I can, if she has the right materials. Now I am come to claim my reward. Give it to me, and let us go in peace.” “What was it that I promised thee?” asked Khadija slowly, when Rahah had translated her mistress’s words. “The antidote for the poison which they call the Father of sleep, and the directions for applying it,” said Georgia, promptly. “Ah, the antidote!--it is well; I have it here,” and Khadija drew a small square box from one corner of her ample veil, which was tied up in a knot. “Take it, O doctor lady, and may it succeed in thy hands!” “Is this all that is necessary?” asked Georgia, opening the box, and finding in it only a small quantity of flaky white powder. “I swear to thee that it is all thou canst need.” “And how is it to be applied?” “Nay; I made no promise to tell thee that.” Khadija’s sharp little eyes gleamed cunningly. “Very well, Khadija; then I shall remain here, and Yakub at Bir-ul-Malik, and my friends there will send a message to Fath-ud-Din at Kubbet-ul-Haj.” “Nay; I was but joking, O doctor lady. Thou shalt do as I bid thee,” and Georgia noted down the details of what sounded like a rude Turkish bath, repeated three or four times, and varied by the administration of copious draughts of a decoction made with the powder in the box.