Three
mounted soldiers leading a score of horses passed. The Arab in the
copse whinnied softly. A second trio of soldiers, following with a
smaller drove, heard the call from the bushes and drew up. The
foremost man spoke to another, tossed the knotted bridles to him and,
dismounting, came through the copse to the Arab. There he found the
young nobleman, sleeping.
For a moment he hesitated, but no longer. Silently he untied the
horse, led him forth, attached him with the others and speedily took
the road toward Tanis.
After these had passed the road was deserted and no more came that way.
In a little time the sun set. The wind from the north freshened and
swayed the close-standing bushes so that their branches chafed one
against another. At the sound Kenkenes, ready to wake, stirred and
opened his eyes. After a moment he sat up and looked for the Arab.
The horse was gone.
Kenkenes arose and searched industriously. The trampled space in the
road convinced him that the horse had departed with a number of others.
Hoping that he might find some trace of the lost animal among the
inhabitants, he went to the hamlet.
Two ragged lines of huts, built of sun-dried brick, formed a single
straggling street.
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