“Send Mustafa to me,” she said to him, but, understanding no English, and grasping only the name of the dragoman, he pointed towards the Oasis, indicating by signs that the man had not yet returned.
At this she went to the door of her room and called out sharply “Mr. Lane!”
Daniel, who at the moment had just ducked his head in a pail of water, came into the refectory drying his hair with a towel.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Anything I can do for you?”
“Where’s my dragoman?” she asked, suspiciously.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I haven’t touched him.”
Hussein volunteered the information that Mustafa had not yet returned, and Daniel translated the statement into English.
“Well, when he comes,” she said, “please send him to me at once.”
“No,” he replied, very decisively, “I’m going to send him straight off to El Homra before he hears of our little trouble this morning. I can trust Hussein to say nothing in the village, but Mustafa I don’t know very well.”
She turned angrily to him. “You do like bullying women, don’t you!” she sneered.