“A letter? If it’s only a letter, couldn’t Spink take it?”
“Undoubtedly. I might also send it by post—if I cared to transmit it in that manner. I presumed,” added Mr. Blandhorn with threatening brows, “that you would understand I had my reasons—”
“Oh, in that case, of course, sir—” Willard hesitated, and then spoke with a rush. “I saw Lieutenant Lourdenay in the bazaar yesterday—” he began.
When he had finished his tale Mr. Blandhorn meditated for a long time in silence. At length he spoke in a calm voice. “And what did you answer, Willard?”
“I—I said I’d tell you—”
“Nothing more?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Very well. We’ll talk of all this more fully ... when you get back from Mogador. Remember that Mr. Spink will be here before sunrise. I advised him to get away as early as possible on account of the Feast of Sidi Oman. It’s always a poor day for foreigners to be seen about the streets.”
VI
At a quarter before four on the morning of the Feast of Sidi Oman, Willard Bent stood waiting at the door of the Mission.