"There comes a time in the history of all our Mohammedan dependencies—India, Egypt, every one of them—when England has to confront a condition like that." "And what has she to do, sir?" The Consul-General lifted his right fist and brought it down on his left palm, and said— "To come down with a heavy hand on the lying agitators and intriguers who are leading away the ignorant populace." "I agree, sir. It is the agitators who should be punished, not the poor, emotional, credulous Egyptian people." "The Egyptian people, my boy, are graceless ingrates who under the influence of momentary passion would brain their best friend with their nabouts, and go like camels before the camel-driver." Gordon winced visibly, but only said, "Who is the camel-driver in this instance, sir?" "A certain Ishmael Ameer, preaching in the great mosque at Alexandria, the cradle of all disaffection." "An Alim?" "A teacher of some sort, saying England is the deadly foe of Islam, and must therefore be driven out." "Then he is worse than the journalists?" "Yes, we thought of the viper, forgetting the scorpion." "But is it certain he is so dangerous?" "One of the leaders of his own people has just been here to say that if we let that man go on it will be death to the rule of England in Egypt." "The Grand Cadi?" The Consul-General nodded and then said, "The cunning rogue has a grievance of his own, I find, but what’s that to me? The first duty of a government is to keep order." "I agree," said Gordon. "There may be picric acid in prayers as well as in bombs." "There may." "We have to make these fanatical preachers realise that even if the onward march of progress is but faintly heard in the sealed vaults of their mosque, civilisation is standing outside the walls with its laws and, if need be, its soldiers." "You are satisfied, sir, that this man is likely to lead the poor, foolish people into rapine and slaughter?" "I recognise a bird by its flight. This is another Mahdi—I see it—I feel it," said the Consul-General, and his eyes flashed and his voice echoed like a horn. "You want me to smash the Mahdi?" "Exactly! Your namesake wanted to smash his predecessor—romantic person—too fond of guiding his conduct by reference to the prophet Isaiah; but he was right in that, and the Government was wrong, and the consequence was the massacre you represented to-day." "I have to arrest Ishmael Ameer?" "That’s so, in open riot if possible, and if not, by means of testimony derived from his sermons in the mosques." "Hadn’t we better begin there, sir—make sure that he is inciting the people to violence?" "As you please!" "You don’t forget that the mosques are closed to me as a Christian?" The Consul-General reflected for a moment and then said— "Where’s Fatimah’s son, Hafiz?" "With his regiment at Abbassiah." "Take him with you—take two other Moslem witnesses as well." "I’m to bring this new prophet back to Cairo?"