"She is ill, I am afraid. She found the heat and noise too much for her. Half an hour ago she asked Captain Stump to take her to the yacht. Of course I told her I didn't mind being left here until some one came. But the funny part of it is that, although I was looking from the veranda, I failed to see either her or the captain leave the hotel." By this time they were free from inquisitive eyes or ears, and Mr. Fenshawe proceeded to amaze the girl with a full recital of his disagreeable adventure. Royson noticed that she gave no heed whatever to his share in it. Her attitude was tinged with a slight disdain, and he began to feel miserably depressed until it occurred to him that she probably resented his departure on Mrs. Haxton's errand without letting her know. That was consoling, to an extent. He was sure she would forgive him when he had an opportunity of telling her exactly what had happened. They were so engrossed in their conclave that a servant entered with lamps before they realized that daylight had waned and night was falling with the rapidity of the tropics. Mr. Fenshawe leaped up from his chair with an alertness that belied his years. "I must break my resolution and send at least one cablegram from Massowah," he cried. "It will be harmless enough to escape mutilation, as it is to my London office directing that all correspondence must be addressed to Aden in future. You will take it for me, Royson, and pay the cost?" Dick went off as soon as the message was ready. Irene avoided him ostentatiously while her grandfather was writing, and thereby laid herself open to the unjust suspicion that she was flirting with him. In very truth, she was torn with misgiving, and Royson's share in her thoughts was even less than he imagined. Her quick brain divined that the arrest of von Kerber had only strengthened the Austrian's claim on Mr. Fenshawe's sympathies. Like all generous-souled men, her grandfather ran to extremes, and she felt that it was hopeless now to try and shake his faith in one whom he regarded as the victim of persecution. "Will Captain Stump come back for dinner?" inquired Mr. Fenshawe, after he had glanced through the letters which Irene brought to him. "I hope so. Mrs. Haxton went off in such a hurry that I forgot to mention it." "Was it illness, or anxiety, that sent her to the yacht?" "A little of both, I fancy. But why should she be anxious? She did not know that matters had gone wrong at the fort." "I think she made a shrewd guess, but was unwilling to alarm you. That is why she sent Mr. Royson after us. By the way, what, did she tell him to do?" "I have no idea," said Irene coldly. "That is odd, distinctly odd. I meant to ask him, but forgot it in my excitement." "He will be here in a few minutes," said she, with a livelier interest.