“Tired? No, my boy,” cried the old man smiling. “I’m in a bad temper to-day, that’s all. This seat is terribly hard and—oh, I know what’s the matter. I’m horribly hungry.”
He turned his head to see that Yussuf had finished and put away his pipe, and was busy over one of the baskets of provisions, from which he produced a cloth and knives and forks, with a bottle of wine and several other necessaries, which his forethought had suggested; and in a short time the travellers were enjoying a rough but most palatable al fresco meal in the delicious evening, with the distant land glowing with light of a glorious orange, and the deep blue sea dappled with orange and gold.
“We have plenty of provisions, I suppose,” said the professor.
“Yes, effendi, plenty,” said Yussuf, who had been taking his portion aside.
“Then pass what is left here to the skipper and his men.”
Yussuf bowed gravely, and the men, who had been making an evening meal of blackish bread and melons, were soon chattering away forward, eating the remains of the meal and drinking a bottle of the Greek wine Lawrence took them.
The tiller had been lashed so as to set the Greek skipper at liberty, and the travellers were alone, while, wearied by his extra exertion, Lawrence lay back, apparently fast asleep, when Yussuf approached the professor and his companion, with his water-pipe which he was filling with tobacco, and about which and with a light, he busied himself in the most matter-of-fact manner.
But Yussuf was thinking of something else beside smoke, for he startled the professor and made Mr Burne jump and drop his cigar, as he said in a low voice:
“Your excellencies are well-armed, of course?”
“Armed?” exclaimed the professor.