"Ibrahim," said Gordon, "where is the Consul-General now?"
"In the library with his secretary, sir," replied Ibrahim.
"Then tell him—" began Gordon, but just at that moment there was a flat and deadened step on the soft carpet of the landing above, and then a cold voice that chilled his ear came from the upper hall.
"Ibrahim!"
It was the Consul-General himself with a letter in his hand.
"Hush!" said Ibrahim, and, leaving the lodge, he walked up the three or four steps to meet his master.
"Take this to the office of the Commandant of Police—take it yourself and see it safely delivered."
"Yes, my lord."
"If the Commandant has gone home for the night you will ask for his Deputy and say my answer is, 'Yes, I let nothing come between me and the law. If you suspect that the person you refer to is still in Cairo you will deal with him as you would deal with anybody else.' You understand me?"
"Yes, my lord," said Ibrahim, but he was staring stupidly at the letter as if he had lost his wits.