“Yes; the large room on the ground-floor of your quarters will serve as our durbar-hall,” said Sir Dugald, “and the attendants of the Ethiopian officials can remain on the verandah. This inner court must be sacred to the ladies, so that they may go about unveiled. No Ethiopian can be allowed to cross the threshold without an invitation, and only those must be invited who know something of English usages and will not be shocked by what they see. The raised verandah before the house will no doubt serve as a drawing-room. What do you think of the place, North?”
“Good position for defence,” said Dick, meditatively. “You hold the outer court as long as you can, and then fall back upon the first block of buildings. When that becomes untenable, you blow it up and retire upon the second block.”
“Until you have to blow that up too, and yourself with it, I suppose?” said Sir Dugald. “For the ladies’ sake, I must say I hope we shall not have to put the defensive capabilities of the house to such a severe test. Well, gentlemen, we shall meet at dinner. No doubt you will like to get your things settled a little. Your own servants will be able to find quarters in your block, but the rest must occupy the buildings round the outer court.”
When Sir Dugald had thus declared his will the party separated, the staff proceeding to their quarters in Bachelors’ Buildings, as the first block was unanimously named, and allotting the rooms among themselves on the principle of seniority; while the doctor went house-hunting with the aid of a minor official who had been left in the outer court to give any help or information that might be needed. Under his auspices a much smaller house, only separated from the headquarters of the Mission by a narrow street, was secured, and hither Dr Headlam removed with his servants and the famous collection. When the members of the Mission met at dinner they had shaken down fairly well in their several abodes, and after a little inevitable grumbling over accustomed luxuries which were here unattainable, they displayed a disposition to regard the situation with contentment and the rest of mankind with charity. Sir Dugald noted down certain points on which it would be necessary to appeal for assistance to the urbane gentleman who had instituted the party into their habitation, while Lady Haigh promised help in matters which could be set right by feminine intuition and a needle and thread, and peace reigned at headquarters.
It was not until dinner was over and the members of the Mission were partaking of coffee on the terrace, with the lights of the dining-room behind mingling incongruously with the moonlight around them and outshining the twinkling lamps visible here and there in the loftier habitations outside the walls of the house, that an interruption occurred, and the quiet was broken by the entrance of Chanda Lal, Sir Dugald’s bearer, with a visiting-card, which he handed to his master on a tray.
“What’s this, bearer?” asked Sir Dugald, impatiently.
“Highness, the sahib bade me bring it to you.”
“The sahib? Here? In Kubbet-ul-Haj? Who is he? What is he doing here?” Sir Dugald’s brow was darkening ominously.
“Highness, I know not. I said that the burra sahib received no visitors this evening, and the sahib said, ‘Take this to your burra sahib, and tell him that my name is Heekis, and that I wish to see him.’”
“‘Elkanah B. Hicks. “Empire City Crier,”’” read Sir Dugald from the card in his hand in a tone of stupefaction. “In the name of all that is abominable!” he cried, with lively disgust, “it’s a newspaper correspondent, and an American at that, and here before us!”