“He has found out something,” said the professor.
“If it is a hotel where we can get a good breakfast he shall have my advice for nothing any time he likes to come and ask it,” said Mr Burne, rubbing his hands.
“In London?” said the professor.
“Anywhere, sir. There, that will do. Don’t swing your arms about like that,” he continued, addressing the guide, who was of course far out of hearing. “Anyone would think that because he was right on the top of a hill he had caught the wind-mill complaint.”
The three travellers were almost as much excited as Yussuf, and hurried on, Lawrence forgetting his weakness in the interest of the moment, so that it was not long before they reached the top—hot, breathless, and panting with exertion.
Their guide pointed to what appeared to be a group of huts a long way off.
“Is that all?” grumbled the old lawyer. “I thought you had found a place where we could have a comfortable meal.”
“There will be bread, and fruit, and a boat, excellency,” said Yussuf quietly; “and these are what you want, are they not?”
“I suppose so,” replied Mr Burne, gazing forward at what now appeared to be a cluster of small houses by the sea-shore, backed by a dense grove of trees, while in front, and about a quarter of a mile from the sands, lay three small boats. “It is not a desert place then,” he grumbled, as they all went on together. “How far is it to that cluster of hovels?”
“About two miles, excellency.”