“You right, sah; didn’t think ob dat!”
Jack began to think deeply.
Leronge, the landlord of the Calabar, had promised to organize a defensive force.
In fact, he was engaged on that business now.
The situation was serious in the extreme.
He had missed the caravan, which had started for Mecca that morning.
There was nothing to keep him at Pilgrim’s Rest.
It was an abominable sandy, flat, stifling malarial spot, which had nothing to recommend it.
One thing he had ascertained.
A steamer from Aden to Suez would arrive in three days’ time.