“But I can’t let you be waiting upon me. Suppose one of the Emir’s men came in.”
“Well, that would be awkward, sir; but I’d chance it this time.”
“No,” said Frank stoically. “There, I feel a little rested now. Go on and bathe yourself. You want it as badly as I.”
“But let me tend you a bit, sir—Ben.”
“Sir Ben!” cried Frank angrily. “You mean to betray us, then?”
“It’s just like me, Ben Eddin; but you will let me give you a cool sponge down? It’s quite right, sir, as a barber.”
“No, no, I’m better now,” said Frank sharply, and he busied himself in getting rid of the unpleasant traces of their ride, feeling the better for the effort he was forced to make, and listening in silence to Sam, who, after so long an interval from conversation was eager to make use of his tongue.
“Hah!” he said; “water is a blessing in a country like this; but oh, Ben Eddin, did you ever see such a place and such a people?”
“No,” said Frank shortly. “Horrible!”
“Why, our Arabs, sir, with their bit of a tent are princes and kings to ’em. Ugh! the horrible filth and smells and sights, and then the slaves!”