Looking out, they saw a body of mounted soldiers coming swiftly down a street leading to the front of the hotel. They were riding at a gallop, the hoofs of their horses clattering rhythmically. An officer with drawn sword was leading them.
“The sultan’s soldiers!” exclaimed Dick. “At last the governor has awakened. Without doubt he remembers Ahmad Pasha, and he does not care about losing his own head.”
“Oh, the soldiers are coming to drive the mob away!” exclaimed Nadia, in relief.
“Perhaps so,” muttered Brad. “I sure hope so.”
“Why, is there any other reason why they should come?”
“I don’t know.”
Deep down in his heart, however, the Texan feared the troops were coming for quite another purpose. He feared the ruling Pasha had ordered them to proceed to the hotel and take possession of the ones suspected as having had a hand in the killing of Hafsa Pasha. If this were true, although the troops might keep them from the vengeance of the mob, it was likely that in the end they would be punished with death, or in some other manner, as accomplices of the murderer.
Entertaining these thoughts, Brad watched with the greatest anxiety the movements of the troop of soldiers. He was relieved to some extent when the soldiers charged into the mob, the officer in command ordering the gathering to disperse.
Professor Gunn literally capered for joy.
“We’re saved! we’re saved!” he cried. “The governor doesn’t dare permit another riot!”