"Then, as it is nearly dinner-time, I trust we may forget Saba and its
legends until we learn what progress Signor Alfieri has made. You start
to-night, Mr. Royson?"
"At the first possible moment, sir."
"No, no. Eat, rest, and travel under the stars. That is the golden rule
of a forced march in the desert. We will give you two nights and a day.
Then, if you do not return, I shall send an open embassy to inquire for
you."
Thus it came about that, soon after night fell, three sulky Bisharin
camels were led away from their fellows and compelled to kneel
unwillingly to receive their riders. The operation was attended with
much squealing and groaning.
"They love not to leave their brethren," said Abdur Kad'r, pausing to
take breath for a fresh torrent of abuse. The camels were forcibly
persuaded, and Royson climbed into the high-peaked saddle. His last
thought, as he quitted the red glare of the camp-fires, was that Irene
might have snatched a few minutes from her rest to bid him farewell.
But she was nowhere to be seen, so after a final hand-shake with Stump,
he rode away into the night.
Pages:
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342