"I'm Captain Moustafa Kamal Sidki, in charge of Intelligence in this area...I understand you are a reporter for Al Misri. May I see your credentials -- all of them?" Under the gaslight he examined each minutely, including those given me by Major Abdullah el Tel.

"The Arab Legion is no friend of Egypt," he said, heatedly.

"What's wrong with the Arab Legion?" I asked innocently.

"Everything," he snapped, eyes blazaing. "They're not Arab. They're British agents, British tools...I am a strong Arab nationalist. I was released from prison only four months ago with seventeen other officer."

"The charge must have been serious," I said, surprised at his candor.

"Yes. Plotting against the government. We were all nationalists -- the nucleus of something much bigger to come. We want to build the future of the Arab world on a military basis. We are in a coma now. It will take us at least ten years to awaken. Only military regimes can accomplish this, and at the same time protect us from our enemies -- England and the Jews."

"What is your program?" I asked.

"To rid Palestine of the Jew though it takes a hundred years. Out motto is: 'God and Nation, Egypt First!' We trust no one except the military. We have learned much from the Germans. All Egyptian officers respect German militarism and admire the way the Germans were able to fight against the whole world. The other Arab countries will follow our example -- when they see that we have the solution of the Jewish problem, the British problem, the home problem."

"You are speaking very frankly with me," I said. "I appreciate that."

"It's because I think you are one American who is sympathetic to us." His black eyes were fastened on me. "You are, aren't you?"

"Oh, yes, yes," I said...

"Will he listen to his inner voice? But it is said that this voice is only formed by the habit of judging and feeling in the bosom of society and according to the laws; it cannot, then, serve to establish them."