"I did," said I.
"In English?"
"What else?"
"Did he answer you?"
"In the kindliest fashion possible. He assuaged my thirst."
"Blast him!" cried Belleville, all of a tremble with rage. "The villain has been tricking me. Like enough I've loosed a force I'll yet have to reckon with."
"I don't comprehend," said I.
"Nor need you," he rapped back. "Shut your mouth till I address you or I'll cut your prying tongue out." The rascal was beside himself, that was evident. And since I was quite at his mercy I thought it best to do his bidding. He clapped a hand to his head and rushed once more to the sarcophagus. He glared over the edge for a minute, then turned and flung out his arms. "For two pins I'd do it now," he gasped. "Cut him to pieces and burn the parts. It's doubtful if I'll ever get more good out of him. But if I do that I'll kill the chance. And yet he's played me false already. Been laughing in his sleeve at me! But no—he can't have meant hurt or he'd have freed the prisoner. As easy that as fetch him a drink. No doubt he was asked. Yet he's not to be trusted now, that is evident. I'll have to gaol him, too. Let's see!"
He crossed the room and caught hold of the lid of the sarcophagus; but do what he could he was unable to shift it. I regarded his efforts with a deal of secret amusement. He emerged from the struggle panting and with disordered dress, and his temper in a molten glow. But he was not beaten. Leaving the lid alone, he wheeled a big lounge over to the sarcophagus and, tipping it on edge, heaved it up athwart the mouth. Then he piled everything of weight he could find atop of the lounge and soon he had built up a pyramid which would have taken a Hercules to shift, if shut up in the sarcophagus beneath. It was then that I began to feel I had been a notable fool in telling Belleville anything about the "Arab." But it was little use crying over spilt milk.
His labours over, the rascal sank into a chair before me, and began fanning his hot face with a piece of cardboard.