“I hardly think you will get as far as Sitt Zeynab,” laughed the aide-de-camp. “No one has ever yet reached it from Damascus, though many have tried, some out of curiosity, and some for other reasons. The Beni Ismail alone among the Arabs know the way, and they will never take any one there. Once or twice we have caught one of the tribe off his guard, and forced him to take charge of an exploring party, but the explorers have always returned unsuccessful and without their guide, after wandering very uncomfortably in the desert for a few days. It is difficult to see how the place can be reached. We have offered a reward to the Beni Ayub, a rival tribe, if they will find out the way to it, but whenever the Beni Ismail discover trespassers in their country, they cut their trespassing severely short. The town does not seem to have been visited by any traveller, and the other Arabs cannot even say how long the Queen has reigned.” “Decidedly we must face these perils and make a dash for Sitt Zeynab,” repeated Cyril; “but I intend to spend to-morrow in exploring Anti-Lebanon.” When the next day arrived, however, Mr Hicks came into Mansfield’s room early in the morning, and roused him unceremoniously from a sound sleep. “Hullo! am I late?” asked the victim vaguely. “I’ll be down in a minute. Does the Count want to start already?” “I want you to start right now,” said Mr Hicks, “if you’re game to do the boss a kindness at the risk of his turning ugly.” “Of course I’ll do anything that wants doing,” said Mansfield, yawning furiously. “Well, the boss’s strength has just about petered out. This hard travelling, and holding pow-wows with those old sinners all the time, has been too much for him, considering he was dead set on getting to his journey’s end right away. I looked in on him an hour back, at a word from Dietrich, and found that he hadn’t slept a wink all night, and was in something very like a fever. I took the liberty of giving him a sleeping-mixture that will keep him quiet till the evening, you bet. But if he starts riding up Mount Lebanon to-morrow, and finds maybe that Queen Ernestine won’t see him at the end, it will about settle his business. Now, what I want you to do is----” “To go and see the Queen,” said Mansfield, sitting up in bed. “If she will permit you; but I want you to go and prospect around at Brutli, any way. If you are able to see her, start right in and work on her feelings till she can’t see for crying. I incline to think she will come down to him at once, but allowing for wounded feelings and insulted dignity, we’ll conclude that she only sends a message to invite him up there. But even if you can’t see her, you can find out when she walks out and where, so that we may bring him face to face with her suddenly. Don’t give the boss away, of course. To every one but the Queen you’re a tourist wishing to inspect the Institution, and my darkey, who knows the country, shall go with you for a guide.”