"I don't think so," replied his friend; "you don't know these people. I'll bet something will be done for us."
At this moment he caught sight, through the window, of a man dressed in European clothes crossing the square. The figure was so familiar that he paused and looked again.
"By Jove! If I'm not very much mistaken, that's our old friend the doctor we met on the boat going to Constantinople!"
Osterberg looked across at the man approaching.
"You are right. It is he," he exclaimed, and they both made straight for the doctor.
"Ah, my friends, we meet sooner than we anticipated. I am delighted to see you, but am sorry for your plight. But come," he went on, shaking hands heartily, "this is no place to talk, we will go to my quarters."
Helmar and his friend followed the doctor to his rooms.
"So you managed to escape from Alexandria?" said Doctor Dixon, as he leant back in his chair after listening to the young men's story. "Well, considering all things, you are lucky. Arabi Pasha, or his followers, are about the most inhuman devils I ever came across. And to think Arabi was one of the Khedive's most trusted ministers! Well, well, we live and learn!"
"Now the point comes, what are we to do?" said George. "This rebellion has robbed us of our means of living, and we are simply thrown on the world without resource—at least without money. We have been to see the consul, but cannot do so for half-an-hour."
The doctor laughed. George felt angry at this outburst of merriment at their troubles, and his face showed it.