"They will be here to-morrow evening," said the senior officer, thrusting a head round the mat. "Ah, you are comfortable, eh? Yes, I sent a messenger to Hassan's camp by the vessel which brought you. Rest well."
"They are good fellows, these Arabs," said Mr. Hume, with enthusiasm—"good fellows. I remember once——"
"To-morrow night," said the officer, as he withdrew, laughing.
Mr. Hume hummed cheerfully as he prepared for bed, taking no notice of his young comrades, who were regarding him with silent disfavour. With one yawn after another he blew out the light, and struggled into his hammock, to fall asleep almost at once.
Venning's uneasiness returned. He tossed restlessly, listening to the unaccustomed noises from without, and as the hours went by, and at last the sound of talking about the fires died off in a lazy drone, the desire to see what had become of Muata was too strong to resist. Softly he lowered himself to the earth-floor, but, soft as he moved, others had heard.
"Are the mosquitoes troublesome?"
Venning started at the deep voice so unexpected. "I did not know you were awake, sir."
"I sleep very lightly my boy."
"As you are awake, sir, I would like to say——"
But he stopped as the mat rustled.