"'Me bhoy, ye're one of the broightest jewels in the crown that Ould Oireland's foightin' for, and I'm only sorry we can't be after givin' ye a public dinner by way of a send-off. But there's the danger that the Holy Man would come to hear of it, and shoot at ye from behind a hedge in the desert, just for all the world as if ye were a landlord. So ye'd best go about the business stealthily. And now good luck to ye.'
"So we shook hands on the platform at Charing Cross, and I set forth alone upon my perilous adventure.
"My starting-point was Cairo. There I was to hire camels and guides, and buy presents to propitiate hostile chiefs; and there began my pilgrimage across the wide and burning wastes of the Libyan Desert.
"You will not ask me for particulars of that desert journey. One journey through the desert is very like another—blazing days and chilly nights; a parching thirst that no drink really quells; the sandstorm blown along by a wind like a blast from an oven; the welcome rest beneath the date palms at the wells; the glorious sunsets that seem to set the heavens aflame; but no real incident unless you miss the wells and die of thirst, or marauding Arabs find you out and fall on you, and slay you, or drive you away to be sold in some slave-market in the heart of the dark continent.
"And I—moi qui vous parle—I braved those terrors, protected only by my Arabic letter, written at my dictation by the degenerate Mohammedan who broke raw potatoes on the bridge of his nose in the circus in the North of Ireland.
"Again and again my guides tried to persuade me to turn back, their terror increasing with every step that took us nearer to our destination.
"'To draw near to Jarabub is forbidden,' they said; 'Senussi-el-Mahdi will slay us, and our blood will be on our master's head.'
"I retorted with emphasis and even with temper.
"'Are you not under my protection, and have I not paid you in advance? Go to, then, and lead on. Otherwise, your blood will truly be upon your master's head, here and now. For I will slay you, and leave you for the crows to pick your bones."
"'It is fated,' they said, and moved on sulkily.