On the 25th of September 1882, the population of Cairo waited in anticipation. They crowded the streets and waited at windows while the British and Indian troops preened themselves to make the best possible impression.
“No sign of Malloy yet?” Jack asked.
“Not yet, sir.” Costello and Jack were in civilian clothes, patrolling the route the Khedive and Connaught would take from the railway station to Ismailia Palace. Jack felt his stomach tighten at the thought that Malloy might be hiding anywhere among the civilian spectators.
“Buller has his men on alert,” Jack said, “and our ragamuffins are desperate to win a couple of sovereigns. Thank God we found the infernal devices.”
Costello nodded. “That’s three o’clock, Colonel.”
“We’d best get to the station,” Jack said.
The Coldstream Guar
