“So are we. See you at dinner, perhaps.”
“Charley!” exclaimed the lady in tones that were quite Amazonic, they were so deep and stern.
Then a short conversation took place with the consul, and the strange couple left, leaving their host free to talk to the other visitors.
“I had very kind letters from Mr Linton at the Foreign Office respecting you, gentlemen,” said the consul.
“I know Linton well,” said the professor.
“He is an old friend of mine too,” said the consul. “Well, I have done all I could for you.”
“About passports or what is necessary?” said the professor.
“I have a properly-signed firman for you,” said the consul smiling; “and the showing of that will be sufficient to ensure you good treatment, help, and protection from the officials in every town. They will provide you with zaptiehs or cavasses—a guard when necessary, and generally see that you are not molested or carried off by brigands, or such kind of folk.”
“But is it a fact, sir,” said Mr Burne, “that you have real brigands in the country?”
“Certainly,” said the consul smiling.