"Thank heaven for that!"
Molara looked at her in amazement.
"What do you mean? Why are you glad that the Admiral and the fleet are prevented from carrying out my orders?"
"The fleet!"
"Good gracious! What did you think I meant?" he asked impatiently.
A loophole of escape presented itself. She ignored his question. "I am glad the fleet is stopped because I think they will be wanted here, now that the city is so unsettled."
"Oh," said the President shortly,—suspiciously, she thought. To cover her retreat she asked a question. "Why are they stopped?"
Molara pulled out a Press telegram slip from among his papers.
"Port Said, September 9th, 6.0 a.m.," he said, reading; "British steam-collier Maude, 1,400 tons, grounded this morning in canal, which is in consequence blocked for traffic. Every effort is being made to clear the fairway. Accident is believed to be due to the silting up of channel caused by extreme draught of H.B.M.S. Aggressor which passed through last night." He added: "They know their business, these English pigs."
"You think they have done it on purpose?"