A child who was sitting between the two rose suddenly and ran down the sand. The men at the ropes had come to a halt. They stood gasping, wiping their faces. Impulsively the child laid his little hands upon the rope and stood in an attitude of tension, ready to use his tiny strength when operations were resumed. The men welcomed him with a glance of good-humored toleration.
The cigarette smoker laughed.
"The restlessness of youth, Sidi. Repose? They have no knowledge of the meaning of the word, these children. Now I? The last three weeks have brimmed with such toil that I could sit here and contentedly drowse a week, a month, nay, a whole year, if Allah willed."
The other nodded and stretched his limbs. The movement expressed the lethargy which is earned by fatigue.
"To-night we shall eat real food," he murmured. "We shall sleep in beds of sorts. We can even be amused, if we find the cafés chantants which attract these poor devils of Andalusian conscripts amusing. It's all a matter of contrasts—life. After the experiences we have endured among our friends the M'Geel, this doghole appears alluring. This!"
He waved his hand with a significant gesture towards the town, in which the mean houses appear to hustle the citadel and the citadel the houses, without either the one or the other gaining advantage.
The smoker blew out a cloud and spat towards the flagstaff which dominates the sea bastion.
"May Allah relegate it and its inhabitants shortly to the Abyss!" he aspired devoutly. "Is it permitted to ask how long, Sidi, you purpose using its hospitalities?"
"It is always permitted to ask, my friend. The answer is another matter. Bluntly, till the Gibraltar boat arrives."
The other lifted his shoulders into a tiny shrug.