“You would really write as willingly for the Conservatives as you do for the Liberals?”

“Oh yes.  I could not write so well on the Conservative side just now, because they are ‘in,’ and it is more blessed to abuse than to be abused, and ever so much easier.  But as far as any prejudice on the subject is concerned, I have none.  I had as lief defend a party that robs India ‘for her own good,’ as support those who would rob her with a more cynical frankness and unblushingly transfer the proceeds to their own pockets.  I do not care a rush whether they rob Peter to pay Paul, or fraudulently deprive Paul of his goods for the benefit of Peter.”

“That is the way to look at it.  I could tell you some very pretty stories about that kind of thing.  As for the journalistic enterprise, it is only a possible card to be played if the old gentleman is obdurate.”

“Isaacs,” said I, “I have only known you three days, but you have taken me into your confidence to some extent; probably because I am not English.  I may be of use to you, and I am sure I sincerely hope so.  Meanwhile I want to ask you a question, if you will allow me to.”  I paused for an answer.  We were standing by the open door, and Isaacs leaned back against the door-post, his eyes fixed on me, half closed, as he threw his head back.  He looked at me somewhat curiously, and I thought a smile flickered round his mouth, as if he anticipated what the question would be.

“Certainly,” he said slowly.  “Ask me anything you like.  I have nothing to conceal.”

“Do you seriously think of marrying, or proposing to marry, Miss Katharine Westonhaugh?”

“I do seriously think of proposing to marry, and of marrying, Miss Westonhaugh.”  He looked very determined as he thus categorically affirmed his intention.  I knew he meant it, and I knew enough of Oriental character to understand that a man like Abdul Hafizben-Isak, of strong passions, infinite wit, and immense wealth, was not likely to fail in anything he undertook to do.  When Asiatic indifference gives way under the strong pressure of some master passion, there is no length to which the hot and impetuous temper beneath may not carry the man.  Isaacs had evidently made up his mind.  I did not think he could know much about the usual methods of wooing English girls, but as I glanced at his graceful figure, his matchless eyes, and noted for the hundredth time the commanding, high-bred air that was the breath of his character, I felt that his rival would have but a poor chance of success.  He guessed my thoughts.

“What do you think of me?” he asked, smiling.  “Will you back me for a place?  I have advantages, you must allow—­and worldly advantages too.  They are not rich people at all.”

“My dear Isaacs, I will back you to win.  But as far as ’worldly advantages’ are concerned, do not trust to wealth for a moment.  Do not flatter yourself that there will be any kind of a bargain, as if you were marrying a Persian girl.  There is nothing venal in that young lady’s veins, I am sure.”