How grateful we felt to the great man for this fresh mark of friendship we found it difficult to convey to him in words, and Kellner, on hearing the news that within twenty-four hours he would be lodged safely in the hospital at Hillah, sobbed with joy. The glittering spears of the Aeniza soon passed away over the distant sky-line, and our small party, lying in a sand hollow, awaited the fall of night.
Almost before it was dark, we set out on what Edwards and I felt was our return to the world. It was a slow journey, for we moved at a walk, two of the Bedouins on foot carrying Kellner, who was found to be incapable of sitting on a horse. But the distance was not great, and, soon after midnight, we saw the walls of Hillah outlined against the starlit sky. Faris led us silently to a small date garden, in the corner of which was a hut, where dwelt an old man, who, he told us, was his friend—or, more correctly, his paid spy. Entering the hut, the sheik soon found the owner, sleeping within the doorway, and a conversation of some length followed. Then a candle was lighted in the inner room, and we were informed that we could stay there for the remainder of the night.
Making Kellner as comfortable as was possible in a corner of the room, we received our last instructions from Faris. As soon as the gates of the town were open, the old man would go and interview the doctor at the hospital, and relate how three Europeans had found their way during the night to his house, and that one of them was very ill. In all probability, a Turkish guard would then be sent out to fetch us in, after which it would be for us to act as circumstances dictated. More than that the sheik regretted that he could not arrange. We thanked him profusely for what he had done for us, and I promised that, if it were ever possible, I would come to the desert again and pay him a visit. He made us a present of the two horses, saying that we might require them to reach Baghdad; and then, to my delight, he lifted up his cloak, and unfastened my chamois-leather belt from his waist.
"I have worn it for safety," said he, "ever since I returned to my tent from our ride to the ruins. Your other goods, and those of the Hakim, I will watch over until we meet again."
"And should we not come again," I answered, "then keep the things in remembrance of us. There is little of value."
"The money in your belt, O magician," continued Faris, laughing as he handed it to me, "still remains untouched. Thus again does your magic recover your long-lost goods. Would that it had brought you Queen Sophana's Serpent Belt also? But I will find it for you. I will yet prove that I am worthy of the reward of the great Shahzadi's shoe. Return to Baghdad, and rest there until a message calls you to the desert. I say no more. Be patient. Allah is great."
Gripping our hands in silence, the sheik and Sedjur parted from us with unfeigned grief, and strode out into the darkness. A moment later we heard a muffled word of command, followed by a clatter of hoofs, and the party had gone.
Sleep was out of the question. The day's work had been full of incident, and a dubious morrow was before us. We had much to think over, and many things to discuss; so, leaving the exhausted Kellner asleep, we went outside, and sat among the palm trees.
"George," said I, "we are in the last lap. It is a straight run home now."
"Yes," he replied, "unless something goes wrong. Personally, I am not altogether sorry, except for your disappointment."