“I am starting immediately, and shall expect to find you ready.”
This was a little too much. Georgia’s calmness, which had been subjected to a considerable strain already by the excitements of the day, gave way altogether, and it was with a hand that trembled a good deal that she signalled back—
“I must beg of you not to come, as I decline to start to-night.” Then, repenting of the tone of her message, she added, “I am longing to see you, but it is absolutely impossible for me to come before to-morrow morning.”
This time no answer was returned; but after a while, during which she stood watching anxiously, and wondering whether Dick was actually on his way to fetch her, she saw a solitary flash. This was the sign that Fitz was beginning operations, and she signalled at once—
“What is Major North doing?”
“Gone to his quarters,” came the answer, “in a vile temper. Excuse me, but this is true. Looks seedy, too; but he brought a surgeon with his force, so don’t worry about him.”
“Please tell him from me——” began Georgia, but the flashes came again—
“He won’t let me in. Stratford is calling me. I must go.”
Georgia left the heliograph with a sigh, for it was growing too late to catch the sunlight properly, and she had a hard piece of work before her this evening, the very crown and object, indeed, of her visit to Bir-ul-Malikat. Returning to Zeynab’s room, she found Khadija sitting crouched in her usual attitude upon the divan, and addressed her—
“I have performed what I promised, Khadija. Zeynab’s foot is getting on most satisfactorily, and needs only proper treatment and careful dressing, so that it is quite safe for me to return to Bir-ul-Malik to-morrow. I have shown the slave-girl, Bilkis, how to dress the wound, and I will send her over a good supply of lint and bandages and the other things I use, so that she may continue the treatment. She can do the work as well as I can, if she has the right materials. Now I am come to claim my reward. Give it to me, and let us go in peace.”