Aylmer came to a halt, irresolute.
"This is not mere talk; you know it?"
The Moor looked at him with sombre eyes which, however, barely hid a twinkle.
"The lady, the little lord, and their attendants went; this I saw myself. Absalaam ibn Said, their dragoman, is my cousin. I spoke with him."
"The old man?"
Daoud's shrug conveyed the fact that he was sufficiently conversant with the customs of Nazrani to have neglected the movements of one who could surely not claim the attentions which were notoriously the due of his daughter.
"I did not concern myself to notice the old man, Sidi. If your business is with him, doubtless it is God's will that he awaits you."
He waved towards the town with a determined and energetic sweep of the hand.
"I go, to earn your dollars, Sidi. One hour may suffice me; perchance I must waste three or even four. But I shall find him, have no doubt of the matter. Have I your leave to depart?"
As they passed together under the shadow of the Marsa gate, Aylmer nodded and the next moment passed alone into the crowd. A side alley had swallowed Daoud as if by magic.