“Ah, yes, indeed, my dear Daniel,” he replied. “Back to the land: the simple life: Fresh Air Fund—a capital sentiment. But, you know, I am very anxious, most anxious, not to offend this particular minister—most anxious.”
His visitor relapsed into silence, and the volume of smoke which issued from his mouth was some indication that he had much to say which he preferred to leave unsaid.
At length he took the pipe from between his teeth. “You had better fix your frontiers first,” he declared. “There’ll be a fine old row if Egyptian patrols blunder into foreign territory. There’s your chance for procrastination. Send out a commission to settle the desert frontiers definitely. That’ll keep you all wrangling comfortably for five years.”
“Ah!—that is an idea, a very good idea,” replied Lord Blair, bringing the tips of the fingers of one hand against those of the other sharply and repeatedly.
“Write to the minister,” Daniel went on, “and tell him you don’t altogether agree with him, but that you will consent to the preliminary step of fixing the frontiers. Before that’s accomplished you may both be dead.”
“I trust not, I trust not,” murmured Lord Blair.
“Or retired,” said his friend; and his Lordship nodded his thanks for the correction.
It was not long before Daniel rose to take his departure. “Oh, by the way,” he said, with a broad smile, “I have one little favor to ask you....”
“Certainly, certainly,” responded Lord Blair warmly. “Anything I can do, I’m sure—anything. You have put me under a great obligation by coming so promptly to my aid in this matter.”
“Well, will you be so good as to walk as far as your front gate with me? There’s something I want to show you.”