“Here,” cried the professor, “let us tell the Sheikh and poor Sam,” and hurrying to the window he beckoned both in from the grounds, where the Sheikh was seeing to his treasured camels and Sam was looking on.
“Then hadn’t I better begin to pack up at once, gentlemen?” said the latter eagerly, after he had been twice checked in his exuberant joy.
“Begin to pack up?” said the professor wonderingly. “What for?”
“To get back into a Christian country, sir,” said Sam warmly. “We’ve found Mr Harry, and he’s alive. Let’s be off at once, I say. I haven’t grumbled, gentlemen, and I ain’t never said a word, but I’ve gone to bed every night—if you can say that thing they calls a anger reb is a bed—every night feeling wondering like that I’ve got a head left to put on the pillow. Ugh! It’s a horrible place, where no one’s safe for ten minutes together. Hadn’t I better begin to pack?”
“When we have my brother safe,” said Frank, smiling. “I’m afraid, Sam,” he added sadly, “that we have a good deal to do yet before we start.”
“Yes,” said the Sheikh gravely, “and the young Excellency must take more care than ever. If there was the slightest suspicion that we were here to take his brother away all our heads would fall.”