The Colonel could not follow it all, but he understood enough to set a little spring of hope bubbling in his heart.  The last terrible day had left its mark in his livid face and his hair, which was turning rapidly to grey.  He might have been the father of the spruce well-preserved soldier who had paced with straight back and military stride up and down the saloon deck of the Korosko.

“That is excellent,” said he.  “But what are we to do about the three ladies?” The black soldier shrugged his shoulders.  “Mefeesh!” said he.  “One of them is old, and in any case there are plenty more women if we get back to Egypt.  These will not come to any hurt, but they will be placed in the harem of the Khalifa.”

“What you say is nonsense,” said the Colonel sternly.  “We shall take our women with us, or we shall not go at all.”

“I think it is rather you who talk the thing without sense,” the black man answered angrily.  “How can you ask my companions and me to do that which must end in failure?  For years we have waited for such a chance as this, and now that it has come, you wish us to throw it away owing to this foolishness about the women.”

“What have we promised you if we come back to Egypt?” asked Cochrane.

“Two hundred Egyptian pounds and promotion in the army—­all upon the word of an Englishman.”

“Very good.  Then you shall have three hundred each if you can make some new plan by which you can take the women with you.”

Tippy Tilly scratched his woolly head in his perplexity.

“We might, indeed, upon some excuse, bring three more of the faster camels round to this place.  Indeed, there are three very good camels among those which are near the cooking fire.  But how are we to get the women upon them?—­and if we had them upon them, we know very well that they would fall off when they began to gallop.  I fear that you men will fall off, for it is no easy matter to remain upon a galloping camel; but as to the women, it is impossible.  No, we shall leave the women, and if you will not leave the women, then we shall leave all of you and start by ourselves.”

“Very good!  Go!” said the Colonel abruptly, and settled down as if to sleep once more.  He knew that with Orientals it is the silent man who is most likely to have his way.

The negro turned and crept away for some little distance, where he was met by one of his fellaheen comrades, Mehemet Ali, who had charge of the camels.  The two argued for some little time—­for those three hundred golden pieces were not to be lightly resigned.  Then the negro crept back to Colonel Cochrane.

“Mehemet Ali has agreed,” said he.  “He has gone to put the nose-rope upon three more of the camels.  But it is foolishness, and we are all going to our death.  Now come with me, and we shall awaken the women and tell them.”