“A friend,” was the answer, which somehow did not convince me.
“What is your name and your business?” I asked.
“I am a friend, and I have something to tell you which you ought to know,” explained my visitor through the closed door.
I opened the door and demanded what he had to tell. He came in.
“You are going by the straight road to Jaghbub?” he half queried.
I nodded assent.
“Don’t go,” he continued with vigor.
“Why not?” I asked.
“The bey is a rich man,” he said. “He carries with him great stores of the bounty of God, and the Bedouins are greedy. The rumor is that you have many boxes of gold.”
I could see that he half believed it, though he was pretending not to.