242 The Light That Failed me over their consummations. But it is very terrible.” “I must go to Suakin. Think for me. A great deal has changed within the year, and the men | knew are not here. The Egyptian lighthouse steamer goes down the Canal to Suakin — and the post-boats — But even then —” “Do not think any longer. J know, and it is for me to think. Thou shalt go — thou shalt go and see thy friend. Be wise. Sit here until the house is a little quiet — I must attend to my guests — and afterwards go to bed. Thou shalt go, in truth, thou shalt go.” “Tomorrow?” “As soon as may be.” She was talking as though he were a child. He sat at the table listening to the voices in the harbor and the streets, and wondering how soon the end would come, till Madame Binat carried him off to bed and ordered him to sleep. The house shouted and sang and danced and reveled, Madame Binat moving through it with one eye on the liquor payments and the girls and the other on Dick’s interests. To this latter end she smiled upon scowling and furtive Turkish officers of fellaheen regiments, and more than kind to camel agents of no nationality whatever. In the early morning, being then appropriately dressed in a flaming red silk ball-dress, with a front of tarnished gold embroidery and a necklace of plate-glass diamonds, she made chocolate and carried it in to Dick. “It is only I, and I am of discreet age, eh? Drink and eat the roll too. Thus in France mothers bring their sons, when those behave wisely, the morning chocolate.” She sat down on the side of the bed whispering: — “It is all arranged. Thou wilt go by the lighthouse boat. That is a bribe of ten pounds English. The captain is never paid by the Government. The boat