“Then for goodness’ sake talk,” cried Frank petulantly.
“Thankye, sir; now I can get on,” and with wonderful celerity Sam scraped away with light hand till the last line of lather was taken off, a touch or two here and there given with the brush, and this fresh soap removed, after which the razor was closed, sponge and water applied, and a clean towel handed to the Sheikh, who received it with a grave smile and nod of the head.
“Good,” he said softly. “Clever barber. It is good.”
“Then you are satisfied?” said the professor eagerly.
“Quite, Excellency. Now I have no fear.”
Sam smiled too with satisfaction as he carefully wiped and re-stropped the razor before placing it in its case. At the same time, though, there was a peculiar, inquisitive look in his eyes. For the whole business seemed to be strange, and he looked longingly at Frank as if hoping that he would follow and explain, when the doctor said—
“That will do, Samuel. Go and have your breakfast.”
But Frank did not follow, for he was eager to hear what the Sheikh would say as soon as they were alone.
Little was said, though, the old Arab being anxious to go and rejoin his followers staying in the village half a mile outside the town, promising to be back during the morning to talk over the arrangements for the venturesome journey.
“Will he come back and hold to the promise?” said Frank to the professor.