When everything was in readiness to resume the voyage, Fosterdyke and Kenyon shook hands with their entertainers and crossed the guarded square. As they approached the entry port on the starboard side a dark figure suddenly appeared from behind an unattended lorry, and at a distance of ten paces fired half a dozen shots in rapid succession straight at the baronet. Almost at the first report Fosterdyke threw himself at full length upon the sand. Kenyon, without hesitation, rushed upon the would-be assassin, while two of the crew, leaping from the fuselage, promptly seized the miscreant and deprived him of his automatic pistol. "Hurt, sir?" asked Kenyon, anxiously. "Not a bit of it," replied Sir Reginald coolly. "That fellow couldn’t hit a haystack at five yards. Bring him along, men." An agitated member of the Egyptian Civil Service, accompanied by a couple of staff officers, hurried up, and after making inquiries and learning that Fosterdyke was unhurt, suggested, not without good reason, that the would-be assassin should be handed over to the civil powers for trial. The baronet airily swept aside the suggestion. "Sorry, Vansittart," he said; "but I’m not going to waste precious time appearing as a prosecutor in this business. No, I’m not exactly professing to take the law into my own hands, but I propose taking the gentleman with me. If he tried to shoot me, surely I can jolly well kidnap him. ’Tany rate, possession’s nine points of the law. When I’ve done with him you can deal with him." "But, dash it all, man!" exclaimed one of the staff officers; "you aren’t going to--to----" "Hang him? Not much," declared the baronet. "Return good for evil sort of thing, you know. Don’t get flustered, Vansittart. He’s mine, and we’re just off." Happening to glance up as he entered the fuselage, Fosterdyke caught sight of Enrico Jaures, who had seen the whole incident through one of the windows. "Birds of a feather," he soliloquised. "However, I don’t suppose we’ll pick up pals of this sort at every place we touch. All ready, Kenyon?" he enquired, raising his voice. "Right-o; let go." CHAPTER XII--CONFIDENCES In one of the store-rooms, the contents of which had been removed in order to adapt the place to present requirements, sat Enrico Jaures and the would-be assassin. They were under lock and key and had been unceremoniously bundled into durance vile without the formality of an introduction. Enrico was feeling fairly content, in spite of being a prisoner. After all, he reflected, nothing had been proved against him. He had scored in his encounter with the captain and owner of the British airship, and, all things considered, he was being well treated.