“Why, certainly!” I replied. “Nothing easier! I’ll set about engaging one at once, and communicate with you later on in the day.”
Now, I may remark right here that in saying this I was far from expressing my real feelings. In fact I was affecting a confidence I was far from experiencing. I had not the remotest idea whereabouts in Cairo I was going to engage a contortionist, nor had I, of course, any knowledge of the city, never having set foot in it before. But I had a knowledge of showmanship, and this I relied upon to stand me in good stead in the emergency.
The first thing I did was to go and get a drink—a good stiff brandy-and-soda. Then I put on my considering cap, and lit a cigar. As a result of my cogitations, I started to get into conversation with the barman; a likely-looking, well-set-up young fellow. He told me he was a Roumanian by birth, and that he had formerly travelled with a circus in India.
“You’re my man,” I exclaimed to myself.
Then, aloud to him: “Do you like the bar business?”
“No, I don’t,” he replied.
“Then why not chuck it,” I said, “and come with me? I’m in the show business. Will you?”
“What shall I have to do?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing much. Just come on the stage and pretend you’re mesmerised, fall off a chair, and simple things like that. I’ll explain it all in the train later on. What wages are you getting here?”
He mentioned a sum.