“Although no precautions have been neglected,” said Danbazzar, “there appears to be suspicion about the object of our journey in certain quarters. I had an interview yesterday with the secretary of Mudîr of Luxor. We have known each other for some years, and he gave me a big dose of advice about the route beyond El Kharga.” Danbazzar paused, tensing his lips so that his abbreviated beard stuck out truculently, a peculiar mannerism which Barry had noted before. Then: “The Mudîr’s secretary was most hospitable,” he went on, “and so anxious for our comfort that I’m dead sure he knew I was lying. He knew we had no more intention of visiting the oasis than he has.” “But how could the truth have leaked out?” John Cumberland asked. “What about these people in the village,” Barry suggested, “where the men are quartered?” Hassan es-Sugra extended his palms and softly intruded with a remark. “They are of the Hawwara,” he explained, “or claim to be. They owe allegiance to their own sheik, and he is my friend. No, it will be some of the workmen, while in Luxor, who have been talking.” “Then what can we do?” John Cumberland demanded. “I could thrash two or three of the men,” Hassan suggested gently, “until I found one to speak the truth.” Barry stared in amazement at the æsthetic face of the speaker, thinking that he jested; but no smile appeared. This was apparently a firm offer. “No!” Danbazzar’s deep voice broke in. “It would do no good. If this fellow Tawwab suspects anything----” “Exactly,” said Professor Blackwell uneasily; “that is just what I am wondering. If he suspects anything, what will he do? Inform the Inspector of Antiquities?” Danbazzar knocked ash from his cigar. The scarab ring upon his finger twinkled in the lamplight. He stared fixed at the Professor; then: “He is an Egyptian,” he replied. “What would he gain by that?” “Ah!” John Cumberland exclaimed. “_Gain!_ That’s the answer--_bakhshish!_” “Under the present government,” said Danbazzar gravely, “always!” “Well!” Cumberland shrugged his shoulders. “I came prepared to pay! Is it safe to start?” “I was about to ask the same question,” declared Professor Blackwell, raising his gaunt and ungainly form from the low camp chair in which he was seated. “Yes.” Danbazzar spoke deliberately, and without betraying any of the excitement which the Professor had been unable to conceal, which obviously possessed John Cumberland, and to which Barry was a restless prey. He turned to Hassan es-Sugra. “Hassan,” he directed, “make sure that all’s clear.” Hassan saluted deeply and went out of the tent. “It’s a bit of a scramble,” Danbazzar warned. “Everybody in fibre shoes, and don’t forget your flasks.” Their preparations were complete when Hassan returned with the news that the road was clear; whereupon, they set out.