"You speak of a boat," she commented, with a puzzled air. "Did you see
the occupants?"
"No, madame. We heard some shouting by Italians. That is all."
"A boat!" she said, deep in thought. "That seems to suggest that I was
to be brought back to the town. The hired carriage and the long drive
into the country were intended to throw dust in the eyes of those who
might endeavor to find me."
"Or to a ship," suggested Abdullah. "Had they a dhow in readiness?
Perhaps, by this time, they may have slipped away to sea under cover of
the darkness."
Mrs. Haxton laughed, but her mirth had not its wonted musical cadence.
"No," she said, "that is not likely. _Grand Dieu_, if only it were!
Now, listen, and do exactly as I bid you. Somewhere in Massowah,
probably in one of the small restaurants, you will find a man named
Giuseppe Alfieri. You must inquire at every cafe and boarding house in
the main street--there are not many. You cannot mistake him. You met
him once at Assouan, and you may recall his appearance--he is tall and
thin, with a lean, sallow face, clean shaven.
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