“Very. He was an admirable guide in the desert.”
“And he speaks English well?”
“Perfectly. Of course he expresses himself in a peculiar way, but he understands everything. I wish I could speak Arabic as well!” I added with a sigh.
“May I just read over the description I have of him? You could perhaps tell me if it corresponds with the man you know.”
He read the description. Within its formal limits it was an accurate portrait of Jakoub, but I was able to add some details as to his present costume for which the sergeant thanked me.
“I think that’s all,” he said, pocketing his notebook; “I am exceedingly sorry for disturbing his lordship and you gentlemen.”
I felt a sense of intense relief, for I had feared every moment that the man might ask some question which would embarrass me, and perhaps lead me to arouse suspicion. But it was clear that the whole story seemed perfectly natural and true to the sergeant. The idea of cross-examination had never occurred to him. The bishop rose and offered his hand with his peculiar winning grace.
“Good-night, sergeant,” he said, “don’t think you have disturbed us in the least. It is not often that we clergymen have an opportunity of seeing the actual work of such men as you. I have been intensely interested in the whole affair, and greatly impressed by your zeal and capacity. I fear we don’t always realise how much we owe to our indefatigable defenders.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said the sergeant, flushing with pleasure at this unwonted praise from so high a quarter.
As he left the room with a final salute the bishop rather wearily resumed his seat.