I'll show you the way, if you like." "Allons, en avant!" said the Chevalier gayly.

"I precipitate myself there on the instant." "Remember!" hissed McFeckless, grasping his arm, "you shall account to me!" "Bien!" said the Chevalier, shaking him off lightly.

"All a-r-r-right." Then, in that incomparable baritone, which had so often enthralled thousands, he moved away, trolling the first verse of the Princess's own faint, sweet, sad song of the "Lotus Lily," that thrilled McFeckless even through the Chevalier's marked French accent:-- "Oh, a hard zing to get is ze Lotus Lillee! She lif in ze swamp--in ze watair chillee; She make your foot wet--and you look so sillee, But you buy her for sixpence in Piccadillee!" In half an hour the two men reached the remote suburb where the Princess lived, a gloomy, windowless building.

Pausing under a low archway over which in Egyptian characters appeared the faded legend, "Sta Ged Oor," they found a Nubian slave blocking the dim entrance.
"I leave you here," said Flossy hurriedly, "as even I left once before--only then I was lightly assisted by his sandaled foot," he added, rubbing himself thoughtfully.

"But better luck to you." As his companion retreated swiftly, the Chevalier turned to the slave and would have passed in, but the man stopped him.