Rudyard Kipling 241 “I am not poor —I shall pay you well.” “Not to me. Thou hast paid for everything.” Under her breath, “Mon Dieu, to be blind and so young! What horror!” Dick could not see her face with the pity on it, or his own with the discolored hair at the temples. He did not feel the need of pity; he was too anxious to get to the front once more, and explained his desire. “And where? The Canal is full of the English ships. Sometimes they fire as they used to do when the war was here — ten years ago. Beyond Cairo there is fighting, but how canst thou go there without a correspondent’s passport? And in the desert there is always fighting, but that is impossible also,” said she. “I must go to Suakin.” He knew, thanks to Alfs readings, that Iorpenhow was at work with the column that was protecting the construction of the Suakin-Berber line. P. and O. steamers do not touch at that port, and, besides, Madame Binat knew everybody whose help or advice was worth anything. They were not respectable folk, but they could cause things to be accomplished, which is much more important when there is work toward. “But at Suakin they are always fighting. That desert breeds men always — and always more men. And they are so bold! Why to Suakin?” “My friend is there. “Thy friend! Chtt! Thy friend is death, then.” Madame Binat dropped a fat arm on the table-top, filled Dick’s glass anew, and looked at him closely under the stars. There was no need that he should bow his head in assent and say — “No, He is a man, but — if it should arrive ... blamest thou?” “I blame?” she laughed shrilly. “Who am I that I should blame any one — except those who try to cheat