The guide led the way. The room was dark, and as far as Helmar could see at first glance, it was as devoid of windows and in almost as ruinous a condition as his prison. He saw in one swift glance an untidy bed, covered with brown blankets, occupying one side of the room, and then his attention was riveted on a man dressed in Egyptian costume writing at a table in the centre of the apartment. He seemed to take no notice of their approach, so absorbed was he in his work; not a movement escaped him beyond the manipulation of his pen, which was decidedly rapid, George thought, for an "uncivilized savage."
The prisoner had time to note the long sword hanging at the man's side, and also the sinister projecting butt of a revolver from his belt, but beyond this there was nothing to mark him out as anything much above the rest of the rebels he had seen.
George and his guide halted in front of the table, and the officer with a movement of irritation threw down his pen and looked up. There was a momentary silence, and the two men exchanged glances of mutual defiance and hatred. Then, with an unpleasant smiling curl of the lip, the latter said—
"So, George Helmar, we meet again!"
It was Mark Arden. Helmar had not been altogether unprepared for this meeting. Mark, he knew, was in the neighbourhood, but he had not been certain he was to be the arbitrator of his fate. He thought swiftly, and quickly realized that no feelings of similar nationality and education would help to save him from this villain's vengeance. He therefore determined to put on the boldest face possible, and meet defiance with defiance, hatred with contempt, and let his captor understand that he did not care a jot for anything that he could do to him.
"You escaped me before, but I thought it would not be long before I should again get hold of you. That was a smart trick you served me at Port Said, and I haven't forgotten it."
George smiled, as he thought how easily he had outwitted this man before, and wondered if there were no possibility of repeating the operation. Mark seemed to read his thoughts.
"No, my friend, it will not happen again; I will see to that. I have you more fully in my power now, and I can assure you I have no intention of letting you again slip through my fingers."
"That remains to be seen," replied George, coolly. "But you haven't paid me that money yet, and I shall be glad of it just now."
This was only said out of bravado, and had its effect. Mark could not refrain from smiling as he replied—