And then they all began to talk together in low whispers with frightened glances round the room, for spies were everywhere. Flight was now hopeless, everyone agreed; nothing remained but to feign ardour in Arâbi’s cause, give up communication with the loyalists at Alexandria, and pray for the usurper’s overthrow.

“They cannot last, I tell you,” chuckled the old Pasha. “These fellahin are quite unfit for government. The young Khedive has been too kind. He has not whipped them. My son and I were present when his father warned him to execute these men, his creatures, who had tasted power. A sad mistake, by Allah! For, Allah knows, we do not want the English in this land. My lifework, that of all the old diplomatists, has been to stave off European interference, by compliments, by guile, by small concessions. O Allah, let me die before the evil day! The Lord preserve us from the domination of the infidels!”

The old man dropped his hands and hung his head.