The shock was tremendous. It overwhelmed him for a moment. “Don’t we have any connection with what’s going on?” he asked.

“One can’t be sure about anything. Who are these officers? And don’t forget that our leaders are abroad.”

“Maybe their journey abroad has got something to do with the movement?” Isa suggested.

The Pasha’s expression showed no signs of optimism. His only comment was a barely audible “Maybe.”

They continued their conversation without saying anything new; this became an end in itself, providing a release for their anxieties.

He found Ali Bey Sulaiman in his villa at Sidi Bishr,36 sitting in a bamboo rocking chair, his forehead contracted into a frown and looking haggard and sickly, all healthy good looks and innate haughtiness gone. When he looked up and saw Isa approaching, he gave him an anxious stare. “What news have you got?” he asked impatiently.

Isa sat down. He could feel the burden as the Bey, his wife, and his daughter looked at him. As he spoke, there was a superficial calm to his voice, concealing a certain pride at the new factor he was about to introduce to the situation. “The King’s finished,” he said.

The last gleam went out of the Bey’s eyes. He threw a sickly glance through the balcony toward the pounding sea. “What about you? I mean you people. Do you approve?”

For a moment Isa enjoyed a sense of exultation, a moment that seemed itself to swing to and fro above a painful wound. “The King’s our traditional enemy,” he mumbled.

The Bey sat up straight in his chair. “Has the party got anything to do with what’s happening?” he asked.

Isa would have loved to be able to give an affirmative answer to these people who were looking at him. “I don’t have any information about that,” he replied, concealing his own chagrin.

“But you can find out, no doubt.”

“No one whom I’ve met knows anything. Our leaders are abroad, as you know, sir.”

The Bey snorted angrily. “We’ve forgotten the lesson of the Urabi revolt pretty quickly,” he said. “The British will be marching in soon.”

“Is there any news about that?” Isa asked anxiously.

The Bey gave an angry gesture with his hand.

“Wouldn’t it be better for us to go to the estate?” Susan Hanem asked.

“No one knows what’s best,” he answered languidly.