“What kind of rocket was it, that burnt the town?” we ask the governor.
“I have it.” The governor ran to the cabin door and called. A servant brought in the exploded missile. It was a large-sized rocket, like our own; twice as large as the rockets that are not made by the government, and which travelers usually carry.
“Seems like our stick,” cries Abd-el-Atti, getting excited. He examined the sheath with great care. We all gathered round the cabin lamp to look at the fatal barrel. It had a mark on it, something in Arabic. Abd-el-Atti turned it sideways and upside down, in an effort to get at the meaning of the writing.
“That is government; make 'em by the government; no doubt,” he says, standing off and becoming solemn. “Dat rocket been stole. Looks like our rocket.”
Abd-el-Atti flies out, and there is a commotion outside. “Who has been stealing rockets and sell 'em to that dragoman?” Boxes are opened. Rockets are brought in and compared. The exploded one has the same mark as ours, it is the same size.
A new anxiety dawns upon Abd-el-Atti. What if the Philæ has government rockets? Our distinction is then gone. No It can't be. “I know what every dragoman do in Cairo. He can't get dese rocket. Nobody get 'em dis year 'cept us.” Abd-el-Atti is for probing the affair to the bottom. Perhaps the hasheesh-eating sailor we discharged at Luxor stole some of our rockets and sold them, and thus they came into possession of the dragoman of the Philæ.
The young governor, however, has had enough of it. He begins to see a great deal of vexation to himself, and a row with an English and an American dahabeëh and with natives besides. Let it drop, he says. The governor sits on the divan smoking a cigar. He is accompanied by a Greek friend, a merchant of the place. When the governor's cigar goes out, in his distraction, the Greek takes it, and re-lights it, puffing it till it is well enflamed, and then handing it again to the governor. This is a custom of the East. The servant often “starts” the cigarette for his master.
“Oh, let it go,” says the governor, appealing to us: “It is finish now. It was no damage done.”
“But it might,” cries Abd-el-Atti, “it might burn the town,” taking now the rôle which the governor had dropped.
“But you are not to blame. It is not you have done it.”