He swerved swiftly aside, dashed down the steps, and passed rapidly from boat to boat across the gunwales till he had gained one on the outskirt of the press. He shouted fiercely to the boy who held the oars, and the latter bent to his work. The tide was with them and they passed rapidly across the harbor mouth towards the yellow sands outside the town.
The child struggled and shouted in Aylmer's arms, stretching out his hands as he saw his friend disappear in the direction of the, to him, still credible black stallion and other promised delights. He struck out passionately at Selim as the latter's hand closed upon him like the grip of an embodied Fate.
"I want my horse, my horse!" he wailed. "I don't want a donkey; I hate it, hate it!"
Aylmer surrendered him, nothing loath, into his attendant's arms and then stood expectant, hat in hand. As she saw Selim again in full command of his responsibilities, the girl dropped from a run into a rapid walk. She panted, she held her hand upon her breast as she joined them. The two khaki-clad police inspected Aylmer with something of mistrust in their gaze.
For a moment her breath failed her; she could only look at the captive with half resentful, half satisfied eyes. Then she shook her finger at him.
"You wicked child!" she cried. "You wicked, wicked child!"
The small sinner laughed defiantly.
"The brown man beckoned me from the door of the mosque," he boasted. "I did see him and ran behind the mule that passed, and in at the door, and the brown man caught me up and smeared brown stuff on my face, and ran with me through the other door and out into the other street and covered me with this." He indicated the djelab with pride. "And Selim did not find me. Ho! Ho! I saw fat Selim jumping like a jerboa as we passed the harbor gate!"
Aylmer inspected him gravely.
"I have a bamboo cane at home which would meet your case, young man," he said quietly. "Would the loan of it be a boon?" he asked suddenly, looking at the girl.