The only discontented people were the Chumleys, the gentleman complaining bitterly about the absence of news, and the lady because her husband would chatter so incessantly.
“I say, Yussuf,” said Lawrence one night as he sat talking to the guide, “they won’t cut off our heads, will they?”
Yussuf shook his head.
“I have only one dread,” he replied; “and that is of an attempt being made to rescue us.”
“I don’t see anything to be afraid of there,” said Lawrence laughing.
“But I do,” said the Turk seriously. “If an attack were made, those people would become fierce like dogs or rats at bay, and then they might take our lives.”
“They would not without, then?”
“No,” said Yussuf; “they would threaten, and hold out for a heavy ransom, but if the friends that have been written to are clever, they will make the ransom small, and we shall be freed. But it may take a long time, for the brigands will hold out as long as they think there is a chance of getting a large sum. They are safe here; they have abundant stores, and nothing to do: they can afford to wait.”
“Well, I’m sure Mr Preston is in no hurry,” said Lawrence; “nobody is but the Chumleys.”
“And I,” said Yussuf smiling.