Yussuf was understood to say that the man must have made haste, and that they would find him at the village.
But if that was what the Muslim had said, he was wrong. For when in the darkness, after what had become quite a dangerous finish to their journey along the edge of a shelf of rock, where, far below, the rushing and gurgling of a torrent could be heard, they reached the cluster of houses and the miserable khan, one thing was evident, and that was that the baggage had not arrived.
“What is to be done, Yussuf?” said the professor. “Must we go back and search for it?”
“We could do nothing in the dark, effendi,” was the reply. “The path is safe enough in daylight; by night the risk is too great.”
“But he may come yet,” exclaimed Mr Burne.
Yussuf only shook his head, and said that they must wait.
But he did not waste time, for he sought out the head-man of the village to ask for a resting-place for his employers, with a supply of the best food the village could afford, and barley for the horses.
The man surlily replied that they had not enough food for themselves, and that the barley had all gone to pay the taxes. They must go somewhere else.
It was now that the weary and hungry travellers found out the value of Yussuf.
For he came to the professor, as they sat together on their tired horses, and held out his hand.