It was fully half an hour before the door opened again and I was beckoned in.  Grim was alone in the room with the Administrator, a rather small, lean, rigidly set up man, with merry fire in his eye, and an instantly obvious gift for being obeyed.  He sat at an enormous desk, but would have looked more at ease in a tent, or on horseback.  The three long rows of campaign ribbons looked incongruous beside the bunch of flowers that somebody had crammed into a Damascus vase on the desk, with the estimable military notion of making the utmost use of space.

Sir Louis was certainly in an excellent temper.  He offered me a chair, and looked at me with a sort of practical good-humour that seemed to say, “Well, here he is; now how shall we handle him?” I was minded to ask outright for what I wanted, but something in his attitude revealed that he knew all that already and would prefer to come at the problem in his own way.  It was clear, without a word being said, that he proposed to make some sort of use of me without being so indiscreet as to admit it.  He reminded me rather of Julius Caesar, who was also a little man, considering the probable qualifications of some minor spoke in a prodigious wheel of plans.

“I understand you want to go to El-Kerak?” he said, smiling as if all life were an amusing game.

I admitted the impeachment.  Grim was standing, some little way behind me and to one side; I did not turn my head to look at him, for that might have given a false impression that he and I were in league together, but I was somehow aware that with folded arms he was studying me minutely.

“Well,” said Sir Louis, “there’s no objection; only a stipulation:  We wouldn’t let an Englishman go, because of the risk—­not to him, but to us.  Any fool has a right to get killed, but not to obligate his government.  All the missionaries were called in from those outlying districts long ago.  We don’t want to be held liable for damages for failure to protect.  Such things have happened.  You see, the idea is, we assume no responsibility for what takes place beyond the Jordan and the Dead Sea.  Now, if you’d like to sign a letter waiving any claim against us for protection, that would remove any obstacle to your going.  But, if you think that unreasonable, the alternative is safe.  You can, stay in Jerusalem.  Quite simple.”

That had the merit of frankness.  It sounded fair enough.  Nevertheless, he was certainly not being perfectly frank.  The merriment in his eyes meant something more than mere amusement.  It occurred to me that his frankness took the extreme form of not concealing that he had something important in reserve.  I rather liked him for it.  His attitude seemed to be that if I wanted to take a chance, I might on my own responsibility, but that if my doing so should happen to suit his plans, that was his affair.  Grim was still watching me the way a cat watches a mouse.