St. Just started with surprise at the unfamiliar visage in the mirror. He saw a thin, lined, haggard face, with a complexion almost as dark as an Arab's, set in framework of long, black, disheveled hair and unkempt beard, his mouth completely hidden by a strong deep fringe of moustache. His military headgear he had never seen since the moment of his fall from the rock after he had been shot at by Mahmoud; and he now wore a "haic," a sort of turban. Altogether he looked a thorough Asiatic, and to one who had known him only as the smart young officer of the Guides, he would have been unrecognizable. He still wore what remained of his uniform, but it was stained and worn and torn, with scarcely a morsel of gold lace left on it. Moreover, it hung loosely on him, for his thin face was the index of his whole frame, which was emaciated to a degree. He was horrified at his appearance, but he spent no time in vain regrets at the woeful spectacle he presented. With a short, hard laugh, indicative of a sort of amused disgust, he strode out of the hut to join the owner of the camels, whom he found chatting with Mahmoud.
After much chaffering, in which, on St. Just's side, Mahmoud bore the major part and displayed considerable acuteness, a bargain was struck.
They set out upon their journey shortly before noon, and proceeded slowly on their way, making no halt until just before dusk, when they dismounted for their evening meal. Not much time, however, was allowed for this, for, now that St. Just was nearing the goal he had been aiming at for months, his eagerness to reach it made him hurry on his men. But darkness came on so rapidly that they were compelled to postpone further progress till the following day.
At the dawn of day they resumed their march, and in about two hours St. Just's eyes were gladdened by the sight of a detachment of French infantry mounted on camels en route for Suez. Soon after this he entered Cairo.
CHAPTER XIV.
General Buonaparte had just returned to Cairo after an absence of several months with the army, whose operations he had been directing in the field. From the moment of his arrival, he had been busy interviewing not only generals and other army officials, but all sorts and conditions of men in that part of the world—contractors, concessionaires, traders, slavers, interpreters, sheiks, the guardians of order in the City, breeders of horses, dealers in camels—in fact all who hoped to make money out of the French.
The last person he had seen was Yusuf, the man, it will be remembered, who, being the nephew of the sheik Ibrahim, attempted to abduct his uncle's daughter, the lovely Halima. He had been kept in confinement during the whole five months of Buonaparte's absence. In fact the General had forgotten him, and it was only on his return, when reminded that Yusuf was still in prison, that he remembered his existence. Then he at once ordered the man's release.
Given his liberty, Yusuf sought an interview with General Buonaparte for the purpose of asking to be enrolled in a band of Bedouins who acted as spies and scouts for the French Army,—at the same time that they did a little slave dealing on their own account; of course, under the rose—and his request was granted.
Scarcely had the Arab left his presence, when an officer came to inform the General that a strange looking man, who said he was the bearer of important despatches, desired an interview.
"Who is he? Where is he from?" was Buonaparte's sharp enquiry.