"Draw up your chair, Commandant—closer; now listen," said the Consul-General.
And then in a low tone he repeated what he had already learned from Helena's letter, and added what he had instantly divined from it—that Ishmael Ameer was to return to Cairo; that he was to come back in the disguise of a Bedouin Sheikh; that his object was to draw off the allegiance of the Egyptian army in order that a vast horde of his followers might take possession of the city; that this was to be done during the period of the forthcoming festivities, while the British army was still in the provinces, and that the conspiracy was to reach its treacherous climax on the night of the King's Birthday.
The Commandant listened with a gloomy face, and, looking timidly into the flashing eyes before him, he asked if his Excellency could rely on the source of his information.
"Absolutely! Infallibly!" said the Consul-General.
"Then," said the Commandant nervously, "I presume the festivities must be postponed?"
"Certainly not, sir."
"Or perhaps your Excellency intends to have the British army called back to Cairo?"
"Not that either."
"At least you will arrest the 'Bedouin'?"
"Not yet at all events."