Max pleaded for one more day—or at least that their journey should be deferred until the morrow.
He wanted to see that wonderful City of the Sun, where existed the university at which Moses was educated, and the daughter of one of whose professors Joseph married.
And so Mr. Gordon yielded.
Joyously the two passed by the venerable sycamore tree, hollow, gnarled and almost leafless, beneath the branches of which tradition says that Joseph and Mary rested with the infant Christ in their flight into Egypt.
The obelisk of Osertasen I., which has stood five thousand years, was gazed at by young Madcap with a certain amount of awe.
It was dark before Max was ready to return.
Instead of taking the nearest route to the city, Mr. Gordon, to please Max, dispensed with the guides who had been good for nothing save the receipt of backsheesh, and made a detour, leaving Heliopolis on their right.
They had not gone far before they came upon a number of wild-looking fellows, half Arab, half Nubian—a species of creature which is interesting as a study at long range, but whose acquaintance is not desirable.
“What shall we do, dad?” asked Max, anxiously.
“We must pass them.”