“And I say the same. Heaven help him!” said Harry, “for I owe it to him that I am with you, and I would say let us hold out here if I thought it was of any use. But it would be utter folly to resist, and I should not like to fight against a man who is doing his duty and has proved himself our friend.”
Frank rose and went into the next room, where Sam had been in pretty good spirits so long as the packing up took his attention, for he was eager to get away; but now everything was done and he was left alone, waiting and watchful, his spirits had sunk below zero.
He jumped up from where he was seated upon a portmanteau as Frank entered.
“Orders to start, sir?” he said eagerly.
“No, Sam, not yet. We must wait.”
“Oh dear!” groaned the man. “I did think we were going at last, sir. Got Mr Harry, the camels all waiting, and the town empty of fighting men. I say, sir, hadn’t we better start, and chance it? Mr Abrams has got a camel, and he’ll find out which way we’re gone. This waiting is the worst of all.”
Frank explained to him the position, and the man shook his head dismally.
“Then we’re only going to chop one prison for another, Ben Eddin? But you surely don’t think Mr Abrams has been killed?”
“I only know he has not returned, Sam.”
“Oh, but look at him. Such a fine, long-bearded old Arab as he is. Oh, they wouldn’t kill him. He’s gone a bit further, sir, to get some news. There, I’ve been red-hot to start and get away from here, but I don’t want to go now. I say, let’s stop till he comes back. We can’t go and leave him behind.”