The officer thanked the lady and salaamed again, then turned towards Kingsley.
“You wished to speak with me, perhaps, Pasha,” said Kingsley.
“If a moment of your time may have so little honour, saadat el bey.”
Kingsley moved down the veranda shoulder to shoulder with the Pasha, and the latter’s men, responding to a glance, moved down also. Kingsley saw, but gave no heed.
“What’s up, Pasha?” he asked in a low voice. “The Khedive commands your return to Cairo.”
“With you?”
“So, effendi.”
“Compulsion, eh? I don’t see quite. I’m an Englishman, not a fellah.”
“But I have my commands, saadat el bey.”
“What’s the row, Pasha?”