He struck at the man in front of him and made him stagger back, then with a quick movement, he stooped as he turned and caught the armed Arab round the legs, throwing him over his shoulder.
He had not disabled his opponents, so he thought discretion better than valor. Using his legs as well as he could he ran away, only to be stopped by the girl he had—as he thought—rescued.
She flung her arms round his neck, and talking rapidly—though in an unknown tongue to Max—held him fast until his pursuers were close upon him.
With a wild shout they seized him, and would have speedily rendered him insensible had not a deliverer appeared.
A man, bronzed and weather-beaten, though only in the prime of life, slowly and with deliberation took hold of one of the Arabs and flung him on one side.
Presenting a revolver at the head of the other, he commanded him and the girl to go, and that quickly.
“You have saved my life, sir,” said Max.
“Have I? Is it worth saving?”
“Perhaps not, but all the same I do not want to lose it.”
“Take care of it, then, and don’t go wandering about Alexandria without weapons.”