"You go to Kafr Dowar?" asked the nigger, as he held the horse for George to saddle him.
"What's it to do with you where I'm going?" he asked sharply. "Mind your own business."
"Be not angry with thy servant," said the man with a furtive glance, which he quickly averted as he caught Helmar's eye. "I but thought. Arabi is there."
"How do you know?" asked George quickly.
"I hear," was the evasive reply. Then, seeing the dissatisfied look on Helmar's face, he tried to ingratiate himself. "The horse is good, he will travel fast," he went on, with a glance of admiration at the animal.
For a moment Helmar was thrown off his guard.
"Yes, and it will take Arabi all his time to catch him, if we should come across him."
"Then you go to Kafr Dowar," said the man, with a grin.
George, seeing his mistake, was about to reply, when he saw the patrol getting ready, so, without further parley, he mounted his horse and rode towards them.